Bird Kids in the NEST
by Ladylaconia
Summary: Maximum Ride was created to save the world. Now she must learn to trust a military group that fights alien robots. Lots of Max-humor, wisecracks, and big bots! thanks for all the great reviews, people! :D
1. Chapter 1

Ah, what a lovely day. A clear blue sky, perfect puffy little white clouds like you see in story books, and the round yellow sun shining down peacefully on the green, green earth.

NOT.

Instead, it goes something like this:

The day sucks. The sky is cloudy and I keep running into bugs that get stuck in my every facial orifice. The clouds look like cotton candy that's been rotting under Gazzy's bed for a month. The sun, when it actually comes out from behind the clouds, is so bright it's gonna fry my eyeballs, I swear.

Being a bird kid has its down side.

I wiped the bajillionth dead insect from my cheek, spit out another one, and glanced behind me to make sure the flock was keeping up. "Everyone OK back there?" I hollered, struggling to make myself heard over the high wind.

Five pairs of eyes met mine. Iggy's blind, but somehow me manages to make perfect eye contact with me. Creepy.

Nudge was spitting out not bugs, but her own hair. "This wind is for the birds!" she complained, pumping her wings hard to avoid getting tossed around by the gusts.

"That was so cheesy." Fang said flatly. His own long dark hair was going nuts. I never want to see that boy in a wind tunnel.

"Speaking of cheesy--" Gazzy declared, an evil grin on his face.

"We are all aware that you cut the cheese, genius. I think you killed that hawk that was following us." I snorted, trying very hard to forget the horrible time I had actually smelled one of Gazzy's 'special' gastric emissions. And he wonders why I make him fly last in line...

We were flying in a V, like geese do. But we're not geese. No, we're mutant miracle children who had bird DNA grafted into us by mad scientists. 98% human, 2% bird. Yeah, we're kinda cute and angelic-looking, what with our wings and all, when we're not kicking the collective butt of evil. Evil can be classified under the following headings: Deranged scientists, egomaniac would-be world rulers, psychotic robo-ninjas, and et cetera.

I'm Maximum Ride, and my mission is to save the world. I love my job.

_Max._

I winced, hating how that always caught me off guard. _Hello, mysterious voice in my head. What divine revelations dost thou have for me today?_

Yes, I have a voice in my head. What, you don't have one? You can get it at Wal-mart for fifty percent off on Fridays. Not. I have no idea whose voice mine is, or where I got it, but it's there. Like I don't have enough problems, I hear voices! If I ever see a shrink, I bet they'd spontaneously die after hearing the first thirty seconds of my issues.

I digress.

_Be ready, Max. Your mission is to save the world. And something's about to happen. Something that will change everything you know._

Oh great.

I made a face and glanced back at the flock again. Angel was giving me an innocent smile, which meant she was probably thinking something horrendously evil; Iggy was eating a bug that had crashed into his mouth; Nudge was talking to Gazzy, who was red-faced trying to rip another fart; Fang had that bored I'm-in-another-dimension look. Everything seemed normal for the moment. But I of all people know that in the blink of an eye, normal can become a war zone.

_Uh, Voice, could you fill me in on some details? Like whether we're fixing to get shot or stunned or attacked by flying monkey ninjas?_

I swear I heard a grim chuckle. _No, Max. Just be ready. It's coming, and you're about to find out why the world needs saving._

I rolled my eyes and clenched my fists as I adjusted my feathers to glide over the wind easier. My wings reach a span of fourteen feet; they're like hawk wings. Brown, black, tan and white. Purty.

Something reached my sensitive ears that wasn't the usual howling of the wind. I squinted and looked around, my raptor vision kicking in. Did I smell... jet fuel?  
The last thing I wanted was to end up as hamburger meat in a jet turbine.

"Watch out, I think there's a jet close by." I shouted. I was right. Straight ahead was a fading line of smoke from jet engines. We diverted our course, dropping down to fly through a patch of ugly, lumpy cumuluses. Oops, make that _cumuli_.

"Eugh. Smells like burnt toast and barf bags." Gazzy said.

"Uh, in otherwords it smells like you?" Nudge shot at him.

"That doesn't smell like any jet fuel I've ever sniffed." Fang said, frowning. "It smells... different."

"Since when do you sniff jet fuel as a hobby?" Iggy queried.

"He's right. It is weird. Maybe it's one of those alternative fuels?" Nudge asked.

"I don't think they even make planes that run on anything else." I called back. "Be wary, guys. I have a bad feeling about..."

WHOOSH!

Suddenly we were all swept upward by a rush of air, and amid all the confusion, I caught a glimpse of the tail end of a jet shooting straight up past us. The heat from its thrusters caused my eyes to water and I started coughing from the acrid smell.

"Hey! That's an F-22 Raptor!" Gazzy exclaimed, pointing.

I stared as the angular, sleek plane circled overhead, then dipped down and headed straight for us.

"It's coming at us! Split up and fly like bats out of hell!" I screamed, proceeding to flap for my life.

We all went in different directions, attempting to avoid the Raptor. Then something totally unexpected happened.

Halfway to our position, the jet seemed to crack in half and start rearranging its parts, like a giant freaking metal oragami. It unfolded at a blurring speed till something bipedal, metallic and dang UG-LY hovered in mid-air, propelled by jets that were now like jet-packs. It reached out with one clawlike hand and snatched Angel, clutching her as if she was an action figure.

Oh. My. GOD.

This was certainly waaaaay more scary than wolf cyborgs, ninja geeks and flying Frankenpoodles.

And it had Angel. So, naturally, I had to kick its can. Get it? Metal robot thingy, can? Whatever...

I was about to zip forward and start karate-chopping, then it surprised me again. It spoke.

"What _are _you?" it demanded, its voice a harsh, screeching sound that made my hackles rise.

Let's hear it for the incredible talking flying robot creep!


	2. Chapter 2 Close Encounter

Okay, Max. Inhale, exhale. Analyze the situation calmly…

We have been attacked by an F-22 with funky tattoos that's not really an F-22 with funky tattoos, it's omigosh freaking ALIVE and folds out like giant evil metal origami monster.

Said giant evil origami monster is a robot with glaring red eyes. And it's holding Angel like it's gonna crush her into little squishy bits. Need I say more?

"EVASIVE ACTION!!!" I yelled, tucking my wings in and dropping straight down like a feathery dead weight. The Flock scattered. I barely avoided colliding with the thing's giant metal leg… or maybe it was an arm. I was kind of too preoccupied with its blazing red eyes to notice. They locked onto me and never left.

"Hold still!" the monster hissed. Its voice was a metallic, gravelly, deep sound that made my neck hair stand on end. It swiped at us, trying to snag us with its free clawlike metal hand. We swooped around frantically, trying to avoid capture.

"AWESOME!" the Gasman crowed. I rolled my eyes. Apparently giant transforming robots appeal to young boys even when they're trying to kill us all.

"FYI, Gaz, it's got your sister in its deathly evil grip!" I shouted.

"SO? IT'S STILL AWESOME!" Gazzy hollered. Then he turned to the thing. "Leave my sister alone!"

Sure, Gasman. Like THAT approach ever works.

"Max, what is it? Is it some kind of new weapon the School sent to get us? I've never seen anything like it!" Nudge yelled, hovering behind Fang, who was just as confused as I was.

"No idea!" I shouted, dodging the metal hand. "Hey you! You seem intelligent for a hunk of junk. What do you want? If it's the usual surrender-or-die routine, don't even bother telling us."

The monster's arms shifted, metal plates and gizmos changed places, and now a missile-launching device was aimed right at us.

"Um, guys…" I began, and then gave a little shriek as, instead of shooting a heat-seeking canister of death at me, the monster shot something a lot lighter but a heck of a lot more sinister. A metal-mesh net. It hit me around my legs and proceeded to wrap around my thighs and waist, dragging me down and hampering my mobility. Crap. I struggled to stay aloft, beating my wings almost as fast as my heart was going. The next thing I knew, Fang was at my side, facing the metallic megafreak with a characteristic Fang glare. Oh God, he is so hot when he's ticked… at something other than me.

"Humans with wings, eh?" the snarling voice chuckled. "Interesting. I was of an opinion that your pathetic species lacked flight capabilities."

"Pathetic, huh? Whatever," I spat. "Now answer my question! Who sent you after us and why?"

Normally I run with a "kick-fanny-first, ask-questions-later" routine. But the fact that our adversary weighed more than several Mack trucks on top of several other Mack trucks, and that it could fly with freaking _jets_, made this a situation that called for new protocol.

"No one 'sends' me anywhere. What gives you the right to question _me_, pathetic composite creature?" The creature hissed.

I felt a little out of my league now. Flyboys were robots, but they were stoo-pid; they usually put us through a woeful series of cheesy, run-of-the-mill threats such as "There is no escape" or "We will destroy you". This robot- or whatever it was- was obviously much more intelligent than anything the School had previously churned out. A weird little thought entered my head… _This thing could totally crush the School if it felt like it._ No doubt the School would never manufacture something capable of stepping on whitecoats. A whole van full of whitecoats, actually.

"HEY!" a small voice yelled. The monster locked his crimson evil gaze onto Angel, who had her arms crossed. She seemed totally unfazed by the fact that she could be crushed into feathery pulp at any given second. "Let. Me. GO."

She was staring, unblinking, straight into his electronic eyes. While any normal kid would have been blinded, she just kept staring, zoning into his brain… or whatever giant megadork robots have in place of brains. For a moment time screeched to a halt. The metal claws snapped open. Angel flew away.

Time started moving again. And Robo-jerk was MAD.

"Max, let's just get out of here!" Nudge shrieked. Iggy was farther away, holding Total, who was praying to God and Jesus and Mary and Joseph and Allah and Buddha and the Greek gods and the Force too. I finally kicked off the mesh net. Fang grabbed my hand and we flew away. The creature swerved and cut us off, using his jets to maneuver faster than we could. Dang. If by some horrible twist of fate I ever have to get turned into a cyborg, I am so getting jets grafted somewhere important. Wings can only get you so far.

"What did the underdeveloped fleshling do?" the thing rasped, either curious or eager to kill. "Something interfered with my processor impulse rate, I felt it! She made me release her!" He swiped at Gazzy, who had flown too close. I swear, if that boy doesn't kill himself in some crazy stunt, I'm going to kill him myself.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw something coming toward us in the clouds. It was another plane, but smaller. A private, one-person plane. A widdle bitty one. Apparently some idiot wanted a closer look.

" Human fool." The metal freakazoid hissed. He shot some missiles in the plane's direction. The plane tried to avoid them, but one of the wings got blown off. The plane broke apart and I saw a body sucked out of the cockpit.

That was when I snapped to action.

I pumped my wings as hard as I could, speeding toward the falling victim. He was falling fast, almost too fast, pinwheeling helplessly toward the green checkerboard of ground that would make whatever hit it go SPLAT. The Flock followed me, eager to get away from the metal monster thing. I heard it screech in some kind of foreign electronic language, then it transformed back into a rather stripey F-22 and flew off at an incredible speed. I was so green with envy.

I got to the falling pilot in time. Actually, "got to him" is a major understatement. I actually plowed into him at the speed of a freight train, wrapped my arms and legs around him, then spread my wings and prayed to all the beings Total had invoked that we wouldn't go SPLAT. It worked. We glided down, made a majorly perilous curve down toward some treetops, then gained some altitude at last. When I slowed down enough not to cause any life-threatening injuries, I touched down in a nice, inconspicuous green field. Ahem, another major understatement. I freaking hit the turf and slid thirty feet while clinging to a non-flying human who weighed about 200 pounds. Yeah, life sucks sometimes.

I came to after a few minutes of laying there in a daze and going "Huh?" while tiny little bird kids flew around my slightly-cracked skull. Fang was in my face, which is odd for him, but just fine with me. Heh. Gazzy and Nudge were looking over his shoulder while Angel and Iggy hung back, anxious. Total was sprawled out on the ground moaning and kissing the dirt. Literally. Kind of gross too.

I sat up and winced as my powerful wing muscles pulled. "I am so never doing that again," I whimpered, rubbing my sore arms and shoulders.

"You okay, Max?" Nudge asked, her eyes wide.

I gave her a thumbs-up. "Been better. How's everyone else? Everyone okay? No massively huge injuries inflicted by the robotic monstrosity?"

"What was that thing? And where can I get one?" Gazzy breathed, still in awe.

Iggy thumped him on the head. "For real, Max. Any idea what that could have been? Something from the idiots leftover from the School's biohazard factory?"

"Max." Fang jerked his thumb at the new member of our group, who was struggling to sit up after being squished by a bird kid at 200 miles an hour.

I stood shakily, flexed my wings, and walked over to the man's side.

"Hey. You okay?" I demanded, sounding gruffer than I intended to. It gets to be a habit after you've been stalked by mad scientists and mutant assassins your whole life.

"Y-yeah. M'okay." The man tried to stand up, but fell over and groaned. I frowned. His head was bleeding. I leaned down and looked at his eyes. They looked unfocused. He was pale and seemed disoriented.

"Max, I think he's hurt," Angel intoned, worried.

"Hey, you. What's your name? Where are you from? Where's the nearest hospital?" I asked. He just stared at me and squinted, too deep in a daze to comprehend what I meant.

"His name is Joel Hubert. He's from Connecticut but he's here on vacation to see his son, who just got married. They live in a town to the south," Angel said.

I glanced at her, then back down at the human. "Joel Hubert, huh? Well, Mister Hubert," I spread my wings, and he stared like a kid on Christmas morning. Only most kids aren't bleeding out of their ears on Christmas morning. "Let's get you to some help."

Ten minutes later, we were in the air. Fang, Nudge and I supported Joel Hubert, while Angel carried Total and Gazzy and Iggy brought up the rear. I kept a sharp lookout for the flying robot thing.

_Max._

I flinched. _Hello, Voice. Say, you wouldn't happen to know what just attacked and almost killed us, would ya? It was kind of big and strange and not anything we've ever seen before. Which is really saying something._

_Max, Max, Max, _the Voice chided. _You'll find out soon enough. And remember. It's about time you found a nest._

"A WHAT?" I shouted out loud. Joel Hubert looked even more confused. Fang cocked an eyebrow while Nudge looked expectant.

"Nothing," I said, all the while feeling very perturbed.

_A NEST? ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME??? _I thought, as hard as I could.

_You'll see,_ The Voice said smugly.

I felt like beating my forehead on a brick wall. Among other things.


	3. Chapter 3 Another Close Encounter

Let's review what has happened today. Flying in formation without a care in the whole wide wonderful world, check. Suddenly being attacked by a gigantenormous monsterbot, check. Saving normal human man named Joel Hubert from a gruesome splattery death, check. Voice telling me I need to find a nest: check…?

I totally want to stomp on the Voice sometimes. Like now.

We finally made it to civilization, a small town right where Angel had predicted. We spotted the hospital and circled for a few minutes, checking it out, and then we landed in a nearby dark alley and tucked our wings under our jackets. Then we supported ole Joel and literally dragged him to the emergency room.

Here's an FYI for the not so knowledgeable: Bird kids no likey hospitals. Hospitals are neat, clean, metallic, smell like antiseptics and Latex, and give me and the Flock horrible seizure-ish flashbacks of what it's like to live in a dog crate inside a top-secret, mad-scientist facility called the School. Duh, we all know that real-people hospitals are for helping the sick and stuff, but still… Any place that so much as SMELLS like the School is automatically off-limits for my Flock. Unless we're bleeding to death or something life-threatening like that.

Which is why we basically walked up to the sliding doors, pushed Joel through, then took off running like a pack of roadrunners. So what if we looked like heartless teenagers shoving a wounded man? When in doubt, act first and think later!

Fifteen minutes later we were in the air, heading for someplace we could settle down for a few minutes and think about what had taken place. We circled a bit, getting to know the lay of the land, and then Nudge saw something. "Ooh Max! Look!"

I looked. And then my eyes bugged.

There was another Monsterbot… only this one wasn't the flying kind. He was bipedal with no wingie thingies. And he was throwing cars and literally shredding up a campsite. Some of the trees had caught fire from where he was blowing stuff up. I saw people running from the chaos, some of them with children Angel's age. I bit my lip.

"Oh my God! Someone's gotta help them!" Nudge cried.

"Let's go." Fang said, looking directly into my eyes.

"I was afraid you'd say that. Let's go!" I shouted, executing a dive that would make some Top Gun fanatics weep. The Flock followed suit.

We skimmed the top of the forest. Then we all screamed as a flying, burning piece of a camper came hurtling our way.

"What if it's a trap?" Gazzy called.

"I doubt it. And if it is, that is some bait." I hollered back.

"What's our battle plan?" Fang snapped.

"Um… I'm making it up as I go." I replied, feeling sheepish.

"OMIGOD OMIGOD MAX DON'T GO TOWARD IT LET'S JUST FLY FAR FAR AWAY OH DEAR LORD…" Total shrieked.

"Angel, Gazzy…" I frowned, then swerved so that I was now flying between them. "You two pick a nice safe tree and stay there with Total. I doubt this enemy's gonna care that you're just kids. We thought Flyboys were tough to handle? Psh. This thing is like the Pandora's jack-in-the-box of BAD."

"Awwwwww!" Gazzy whined.

"No awwwwwws or buts." I snapped.

"Max is right. We should protect Total." Angel said, and then dropped down into the treetops. Gazzy looked conflicted, then rolled his eyes and followed his sis.

Am I a responsible Flock Leader or what?

"What about me?" Iggy complained. "I'm blind, remember?"

"Like I could ever forget. Don't worry, we need you. Just stay close to Nudge in case she gets in trouble." I called.

We soared over the thing's head and it paused from its rampage of destruction to do a double take. We landed and did our best We-Will-Kick-Butt poses. Some of the fleeing campers paused to gawk, then scrambled to get away while the monster was distracted.

"Hey!" I yelled. "Why don't you pick on someone your own size, Tin-man?"

"That was lame." Fang muttered. I swear, if we weren't about to die gruesomely, I would have slapped him.

Evil, shiny red eyes met mine. I could just feel the hate boiling in them.

"Human mutations." He growled, opening one hand. His fingers all ended in long, pointed, sword-like blades. "Your efforts to save these insects are futile."

"Okay, Freddy Kruegernator." I shot back. "Check this out!"

We all took off, heading in different directions. Fang went one way; I went another. So did Nudge and Iggy. We flew in perilous circles around the creature's head, swooping down low just to irritate him. It worked. He snarled in some electronic mumbo jumbo and swiped at us, then unlimbered a gigantic gatling gun and shot at us. The all-too-familiar sound of bullets ripping through the air around me was music to my ears.

"Hey!"

I saw a blur of spiked blonde hair and Gazzy's blue eyes, then something went CLINK. I saw the monster scrabble at its neck. Then I saw a great big fiery BOOM.

"YEE-AH!" Gazzy crowed, making a wide circle around all of us. "Sorry, Max. I just remembered I had one of my bombs with me!"

"It's my bomb too!" Iggy protested.

"Was." Gazzy corrected.

"You… will pay… for this." The monster hissed. I saw fluids dripping from some cables in its neck area. The bomb hadn't done much damage except that it severed some pipey things that looked like robot veins or arteries. Sparks flew from the cables.

"Oh crap, he's pissed now." I complained, then dodged a volley of flak.

"You think?" Fang quipped.

"What do we do now?" Nudge shouted.

I glanced around and felt my stomach sink. At least the campers were getting away. "Um, no clue." I admitted, watching as our new foe prepared to pick us off one by one.

"What's that sound?" Iggy queried.

I heard it too. It was a steady, staccato thrumming, and it was getting louder by the second. Seconds later, a helicopter- no, make that eight helicopters- came into view. They were military choppers. Oh boy. As in, big choppers with big, big guns.

"Max! They could be monsters!" Gazzy said.

That was when the forest exploded.

Tanks came rolling out of the tree line, escorted by soldiers and more soldiers. I had seen enough. I yelled "UP!" to the Flock and they obeyed. Angel, who was carrying a stricken Total, joined us. "What's going on? Why are we not dead yet?" he asked, glancing wildly around.

"Look!" Gazzy shouted, pointing downward. I glanced down. The military people weren't doing so well against the monster, which kept transforming into a pickup truck and running over unlucky soldiers. I blanched. When they shot it with their guns, it didn't even make a dent. When they shot it with rockets, it picked up a camper and went smush on the rocket launchers.

_Help them, Max._ the Voice urged. _They need you._

"Need me?" I said aloud, scowling. _Wait a second. First you tell me I need to find a… a nest… now you say that big important military people are counting on little ole me? Voice, we need to talk._

_ Later, Max._ the Voice said disapprovingly. _Save the world… one life at a time._

"Crap." I hissed through my teeth. Then I looked over at Fang. "The Voice says we should help them."

"Great." And just like that, he dove.

"Wait up!" I hollered. Nudge grabbed Iggy's arm and yanked him down. Angel and Gazzy followed; Total was bawling.

Just in time, I saw a man in camouflage fatigues being thrown by the monster. I flew up and intercepted him. It felt like being tackled by a linebacker. "Oh God." I grunted, gliding down and giving my rescuee a rough landing.

The soldier got a good look at me and jerked away, pale as a ghost. "Holy…" he started, then paused. "What ARE you, an angel?"

"Nah, not quite." I stood up and popped my neck. "More like a feathery she-demon from hell."

And so I left him sitting there, just like that. I have such a wonderful way with people.


	4. Chapter 4 Welcome to the NEST

Let it be said that when it comes to fighting evil maniacal monster critters, me and my Flock take the cake.

I watched as Fang and Nudge caught flying soldiers. Angel was huddled by a wounded soldier, who was also serving as Total's new lap, trying to give him calming thoughts. Gazzy was screaming unintelligible manly stuff and helping some of the soldiers to safety. The sound of firing tanks and machine gun fire was enough to deafen one.

I ran forward and saw a guy who looked in charge. My eyes locked onto a patch on his sleeve. My heart almost stopped. Under a strange insignia, there were the letters NEST.

Okay, Voice. I think I found the 'nest'.

"Excuse me." I broke into a run. "Hey! Excuse me!"

He turned and saw me. "Get out of here, miss! This is no place for civilians."

"Do I look like a civilian to you?" I retorted, spreading my wings. We both flinched as something exploded nearby.

"I said get out of here," The man snapped.

"And I say no way Jose. We gotta stop that thing!" I shouted, pointing at the metallic monstrosity.

The man looked over my shoulder and nodded. I turned just in time to see another uniformed man shoving a syringe into the crook of my elbow. My eyes widened, but no sound would come out of my mouth. I stepped back and faltered, falling into a druggy state of surreal helplessness.

The last things I heard before blacking out were explosions, cries of outrage from my Flock, and the Voice saying _Welcome to the nest, Max._

_ Welcome to the nest, Max._

I sat straight up. I was woozy, but no longer drugged. I blinked and saw my mom's face inches from mine.

Dr. Valencia Martinez. My biological, honest-to-God mother.

"M-mom?" I stammered, still a little dizzy.

"Just lay back down, honey." Mom soothed. I did as she said. She brushed a strand of dirty blonde hair from my face and smiled a tired smile. I saw that we were in some kind of medical lab, and I was lying on a white cot. Mom had a half-empty cup of coffee on the small table beside her. I must say, this was a better situation than the traditional black hood and duct tape procedure. Or the isolation tank. Or being in a dog crate.

"Why did they inject me?" I demanded, ticked off.

"It's okay, Max. Jeb was the one who alerted the military that you guys were in the area. They were supposed to get you out of the battle by any means necessary." She averted her eyes. "I'm sorry."

"So they're okay? The others?"

"Sure we are!"

Gazzy, Iggy, Angel, Total, Nudge and Fang filed in through a door. I saw a guard standing outside and shivered.

"Where the heck is this place?" I wondered aloud.

"No idea," Fang answered.

I looked at my mom with Bambi eyes… or at least something like that.

"I don't even know. The plane had closed windows. It was a long flight, though… I'd imagine we're not in North America anymore. They just herded us on and off and sent us down here."

"Down here?" I queried.

"Yeah. This base… or whatever it is… is underground. Cool, huh?" Gazzy intoned. He flopped down in a chair. "Good thing they didn't stick _me _with a needle."

"Are you all right?" Fang asked.

"Yeah, I'm great." I sat up slowly and rubbed my aching head. "Where is Jeb?"

"He's here… somewhere," Mom replied. She drank the rest of her coffee in a few quick gulps. "I don't know much about what's going to happen now, but I do know that we're in the best hands available. And Max…" She sighed. "I can only stay for a few minutes. They want me out of here as soon as possible to go back home. It's you they're interested in-- you and the Flock." Her eyes met mine. "I wouldn't leave unless I trusted these people completely."

"I know you wouldn't," I said, trying to be brave. Inwardly I was shrieking OMIGOD MOM DON'T LEAVE ME WITH THE NEEDLE PEOPLE!!!

Suddenly the door opened again and in marched some uniformed men. My mom put her hand on mine to stop me from jumping up and karate-chopping.

"Dr. Martinez, Miss Ride…" A handsome soldier whose face was still smeared with sweat and grime glanced at us as he spoke. "I am Major William Lennox, United States Army. Dr. Martinez, I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

My mom stood slowly. I clung to her hand, praying she wouldn't actually have to go. But she gave my hand a gentle squeeze, then let go. "Goodbye, Max. I'll see you soon." With that she exited the room, accompanied by a soldier.

I stared after her, disappointed and mad at the uniformed men who dared separate Maximum Ride from her mommy.

"So what do you want? Our DNA? Our internal organs? My fingerprints? My left ear?" I demanded, standing up. The Flock bunched up beside and behind me, ready to do whatever the situation required… which basically entailed kicking some butt.

"Uh…" Lennox exchanged glances with an African-American guy, who shrugged. "Actually, I was going to ask if you guys were hungry. And apologize for the tranquilizer. We were under orders."

"Whatever." I scowled.

"I'm Sergeant Ray Epps," the black man said, walking forward and extending his hand to Fang. When Fang didn't shake, he turned to Iggy. When Iggy didn't shake, he turned to Gazzy, who worked his hand like it was a water pump.

"Does the Army take kids with wings?" Gazzy blurted.

A couple of soldiers chuckled. Lennox looked somewhat amused.

"I heard you chunked one heck of a bomb at that thing back at the campgrounds," Epps remarked, sizing Gazzy up.

"Aw, it was nothin'. Actually, me and Iggy make bombs. They're really good for blowing up cars and… stuff." Gazzy said, smiling sheepishly.

Epps and Lennox exchanged skeptical glances. I snorted. _If only you knew the half of it._

"So did you kill the monster? The one that was hurting everyone?" Angel asked.

"Yeah." Lennox's voice sounded hollow, pained. I knew there had been lots of human losses. Something inside me soured. He gave Angel a quizzical look. "You guys were lucky to survive your first encounter with one of those things. Especially since it was Starscream."

I cocked an eyebrow. Angel looked at me. "I told them about the first one. The flying one."

"So what do we do now?" I asked. Let's cut through the crap, fellas!

"Follow us," Lennox said, indicating the door. "Welcome to NEST, top-secret task force. You are on the island base Diego Garcia, in the middle of the Indian Ocean. Don't freak out, you are perfectly safe. And please, try to keep it together. The brass aren't too happy with this… situation."

"What situation?" I demanded.

"You." Epps smirked.

I smiled innocently. "Well then. Looks like things are off to a good start."


	5. Chapter 5 Regret

Jeb Batchelder and Valencia Martinez sat across from each other on the plane. Dr. Martinez sipped absently at a bottle of water; Jeb had his eyes shut and his arms crossed. The plane was empty save for the pilots, the security guards and a single orderly.

When Dr. Martinez slammed her bottle down, Jeb's eyelids parted. He saw her red eyes, her anguished expression. "I know," he said in a low voice.

"Are you sure this is the right thing?" Dr. Martinez asked, her eyes locking with Jeb's. He was surprised by how alike she and Max were. Their eyes were exactly the same.

"If it wasn't, I wouldn't have left her there. Or the others. She needs them," Jeb said, uncrossing his arms.

Dr. Martinez was silent for a moment. She looked Jeb over, as if seeing him for the first time. He was pale, a bit gaunt, and he looked overworked.

"Your wife. What was her name?" she asked.

Jeb glanced at the covered window. The overhead lights made him look dead. "Jane," he said, his expression set. "Her parents were from Iceland. That's why she named our son… Ari." He winced.

"Ari," Dr. Martinez murmured, thinking. She gave Jeb a sideways look. "Max told me everything that happened. I'm so sorry."

"It was… necessary." Jeb ground the words out with difficulty. "While I was raising the Flock, the School decided to use Ari as a test subject. I had a choice. I could go back and save my son or I could remain with Max and the others and prepare them to save the world. I chose Max." He bowed his head. "I know it was the logical choice, the choice that was best for all humanity, but… Ari never understood. I destroyed him. My own son."

Dr. Martinez contemplated this for a moment. Jeb was like a puzzle; now and then you could see the whole picture, but then there were missing pieces, and pieces that didn't fit. She could sense real pain in his voice, in the way he acted. Now that Ari was truly gone, he could fully see the horror of what he had done.

She had been a part of it. They had created a little embryo who was doomed to live a life of literal hell, all for the greater good. She could understand him because she shared the guilt. Not for Ari, but for everything. All the nonviable hybrids who had died out, all the experiments that had lived short lives of torture and senseless pain. All the innocent children.

Max.

She reached out and clasped his hand, and unspoken words flowed between them. They sat like that for a long time, thinking, remembering, dreaming.


	6. Chapter 6 Meet the Bots

The interview with the NEST brass was giving me a literal headache.

Lennox and Epps were watching, probably as bored as I was, while some very cranky-looking old men in uniforms that had tons of glittery pin-on medals asked me and the Flock tons of boring, routine questions. Names, ages, skills, yadda yadda yadda. They started with Angel first, then her brother the Gasman, then Nudge, then Iggy, then Fang. I was praying to all the powers above that Gazzy would not, WOULD NOT, smart off and demonstrate his noxious skill. There was one woman present, an older woman who said nothing, only watched everything with keen, cold eyes. She reminded me of me when I'm in one of my moods (I have several, FYI).

Finally it was my turn, yay. I sat up straight in my chair and made sure that I gave General Number One my best Max glare.

"And what is your function in this group, Miss?" he asked, his rough voice demanding.

I shrugged, formulating a response that would verbally kick his butt. "I lead. I take care of these kids and annihilate whatever insane megalomaniac is trying to either (a) dissect us or (b) use us for evil." It's a hard life, being me. "Oh yeah, and supposedly I'm supposed to save the world. Thought you might wanna know that little sweetheart."

"Max is the leader. Always has been," Fang intoned. I raised both eyebrows. I would never admit it, but that gave me butterflies in my happy place.

"Well then, _Leader_," the general said, skeptical but forced to go along with it, "It's high time that we introduced you and your 'team' to _our_ surprise."

"Surprise?" Nudge squealed, looking around expectantly, as if ice cream and energy drinks would start raining from the ceiling.

"Frankly, the reason why you are here," the uniformed woman said. Everyone glanced at her. I picked up the fact that she was either dangerous or very important.

I stood up and lightly jumped to stand in front of the Flock. Fang stepped forward to stand beside me. "Think it's a trap?" he muttered.

"Just be ready for anything," I muttered back, getting ready to either kick some can or fly like a bat out of hell.

The large hangar doors began to grind open, pulled by an unseen motor. All seven of us tensed, readying our wings. When the door was finally open all the way, we got a good look at their little "surprise".

Which was not little at all. And there were more than one.

Before I could shout "Evade the giant freaking robots!" we were backing away, preparing to bust open a window and get the heck out of there. Nope- no windows. We're underground, remember? A hand on my shoulder made me pause. It was that guy Lennox. "Wait," he said, indicating the machines. "They aren't gonna step on you or anything."

"All the robots I've ever dealt with weren't trying to _step _on me—they were trying to rip off my wings or worse, kidnap me and feed me to the mad scientists!" I shot back, shaking off his hand. He backed off, hands raised in a gesture of surrender.

"Maximum Ride," The tallest one said, and that stopped me in my tracks. Cause when a giant robot says your name, it's gonna make you pay attention.

I maintained my _I'm-gonna-kick-some-butt _stance, wary and more than a bit terrified. "Yeah?"

"I am Optimus Prime," he—it—whatever—said, mimicking Lennox's "I mean you no harm" gesture. "We are Autobots, autonomous robotic organisms from the planet Cybertron."

At this, several of the cars that had been idling changed shape, folding in on themselves and rearranging till bipedal, vaguely human-shaped forms stood in formation behind their leader and the other two who had already transformed. I had to remind myself not to let my jaw drop.

"So are you gonna squish us or what?" I challenged. Might as well get to the point.

"No. We are here, like you, to… save the world."

I contemplated. "Prove it."

"Max."

I turned. Angel was staring up at the red and blue Optimus fellow with her zoned-out expression that usually means she's digging in someone's brain. She was looking up at him as calmly as if he was one of her favorite stuffed animals.

"It's true. What they said about saving the world. They're the good guys," Angel said. I blanched. Great, now Angel can read computer minds?

Optimus leaned down to get on our level. I backed away while Angel stayed put. Gazzy tried to run forward and grab her, but Nudge stopped him. Iggy had a vaguely bored expression. "Someone please explain to me what's going on," he muttered.

"Jesus, Mary and Joseph," Total breathed. Gazzy was holding him now instead of Angel.

Laserlike, piercing electric blue eyes met Angels. She didn't flinch. Instead she cocked her head as if she hadn't heard something right and said, "I like your other name better. Orion Pax."

There was a chorus of GASP noises from the other Transformers. Fang and I looked around, then shrugged. Apparently Angel was uncovering deep secrets. That's my girl!

"Your abilities are quite keen," Optimus said, and I swear that if his face could make expressions, he would have smiled. "You must be adept at your skill to read the mind of a Cybertronian. Organic thought processes are not nearly so complex."

"There's so much I don't understand." Angel made a face and I guessed she had ended the invasion of minds. "But I know we can trust you guys. I'm sorry about Elita and everyone else. I hope you can go back to your planet someday and start over."

Lennox and Epps both raised their eyebrows and cast querying looks at me. I shrugged. It's not like I have any idea what they're thinking/talking about.

"I regret that your lives have been hard and painful as well," Optimus replied. He seemed impressed with Angel's powers. Well then. At least the giant robots are happy and not trying to step on us and turn us into little feathery mutant pancakes.

He stood back up, returning to his gargantuan height. At the same time, Angel shot into the air, circled his head twice, and perched on his shoulder. I gaped and I heard Gazzy breathe a heartfelt "Coooool." All the military people gasped and made oohs and ahhs. As if the transforming robots weren't cool enough, now there are flying children!

"Um, uh, well then," I began, clearing my throat. "Since the natives are friendly, I'll just forego the usual sarcastic banter and get to the point. Why are we here on some uncharted island in the Indian Ocean, underground? And why were we attacked by a flying monsterbot name Starstreak or Starscreech or whatever?"

"Starscream," rumbled one of the bots, a black truck with two of the biggest cannons I have ever seen, one on each arm. "The filth."

"Okay then. Starscream the filth," I muttered.

"I'll answer your first question," General Number One said, smiling unpleasantly. "You are here because the government wants you here, and that's all you need to know."

"Yeah right. Since when do I care what the government wants? I've lived my whole life without its help and I don't obey it. Next answer please," I spat.

"Let me clarify what he said, Miss," said another general. This one looked a little nicer. Like, he didn't look like he was having corrosive indigestion. "You are here because you have been targeted for elimination by the Decepticons. They are an organization of Cybertronians who seek to destroy the human and Autobot races. We believe that somehow a covert criminal group has made a deal with the Decepticons… and the terms are that you and your 'flock' die."

I pursed my lips. Now that was enlightening. Terrifying, but enlightening all the same.

"Your… guardians, Jeb Batchelder and Dr. Martinez, agreed to this," the other general said. "The only way you can be safe is if you stay here at Diego Garcia until the threat against you has been neutralized."

"So, remnants of Itex, or whoever wants revenge on us, have made a deal with these Deceptive-whatevers?" I asked.

"Decepticons," Optimus corrected. I cringed. His voice was just so dang deep! It made my hollow bones vibrate. "They usually do not regard humans as useful, but sometimes a human who is willing to destroy fellow humans will aid them. It has happened before." I heard the mechanical equivalent of a sigh. Apparently 'before' had not ended well.

"The reason you are here is simple. Decepticons and Autobots alike can transform into everyday human pieces of technology. Think about it. A pair of wings and some special powers are useless against a flying blender with heat-seeking missiles shooting out of its head," Epps intoned. Gazzy burst out laughing. I tried hard not to think up a mental image of such a contraption coming after me.

"The most effective weapons against Decepticons are these," the black truck bot growled. His cannons swiveled, locked and began to whine, charging up. Everyone glanced over nervously. Everyone except Lennox, Epps and a few others, who snickered.

"And let's not forget sabot rounds," Lennox said. "But back to the subject. The point is, you kids are too valuable for us to just sit around and wait for the Decepticons, or the School, or whatever, to hurt you. So it's in everyone's best interests for you to let the Autobots serve as your comrades…" He smirked. "And your protectors."

"Everything you have heard is true, Maximum," The older woman said. I glanced at her face. She was dead serious. "Remain with NEST, and your enemies will have no access to any information regarding your whereabouts. Your existence, even. As far as they know, you could be dead now. This organization is above top secret. We are dedicated to the preservation of all life on Earth… human _and _recombinant. The Autobots are our allies _and_ the only thing standing between us and the ultimate doom. You could be in no better place at this time."

"Yay!" Angel cheered from her new perch on Optimus's gleaming shoulder. I glanced up at her, then turned my attention back to the military and alien folk.

"I'm not saying I'm thrilled with it, but okay," I finally said, sighing. Sometimes this whole leader thing is a great big pain in my bird-kid butt.


	7. Chapter 7 Getting Settled

Let it be said that the peeps at NEST headquarters really know how to make a bird kid feel welcome.

After leaving the meeting with the brass and bots, we were ushered into a separate compound that turned out to be a big system of living quarters. Total was hyperventilating into a paper bag. Captain Lennox and Tech Sergeant Epps were our personal tour guides as they led us deeper into the heart of the place. And guess what the first attraction was: food!

Six hungry bird kids + one hungry mutant Scottie dog + lots o' vittles = HAPPINESS.

We all piled into the chairs that surrounded the table, eager to chow down. I did a quick check on the room: no trap doors I could see at the moment, no suspicious people looking at me, nothing out of the ordinary except us mutants. I made myself relax and smelled the food. It made my mouth water.

"We figured that bein' part bird and all, you kids would have a very high metabolic rate- so we ordered as much as we could for you to snack on while you're here. We get loads of supplies from the U.S., but the stuff from over in Asia and Europe is worth eatin' too," Epps explained, helping himself to a butter-glazed dinner roll.

"Thith sthuff ith AWETHUM," the Gasman stated while cramming a wad of lasagna into his mouth.

"I hope that our little introduction back there didn't scare you too badly," Lennox said, giving me a rueful look. "But I can't tell you how important it is that you trust the Autobots with your lives. They're the only thing that stands between the Decepticons and humanity. And trust me, the Decepticons want nothing better than to exterminate us like bugs."

"They call us insects. Gives you a pretty good notion of what our situation is," Epps remarked.

I frowned. "So if the Decepticons are so powerful and all, why doesn't anyone else know about them? Shouldn't the whole world be on red alert or something?"

"Yes… and no," Lennox chewed his lip for a second. "Mass panic is not an option. The threat is there, sure, but Decepticons are subtle. They blend in very well. They even copy our military vehicles in an effort to remain incognito. There's no sure way to determine whether your own Blackberry is a friend or foe. And, they rarely go on rampages unless they're all in some scheme together. Like yesterday. That truck thing at the campsite wanted you to come to him so he could take you out. If you hadn't been in the area, he would have acted as innocent as this table." He lightly smacked the table with his palm. I stared at the table, decided it was friendly, then nodded.

"Here at NEST it's our job to figure out what their next move is so there'll be no need for public fuss. We saddle up, let the Autobots slap 'em around, take care of the situation before it gets out of hand," Epps added.

"Nip it in the bud, so to speak," Iggy said, wiping his mouth. There was cranberry sauce on his shirt, but no one said anything to him about it.

"Yeah. And it ain't easy. Lots of good men go down. Lots of good men," Epps sighed, shaking his head.

"I know some soldiers died yesterday. I'm sorry," I mumbled. I'm not really good at touchy-feely junk.

Lennox gave me a nod. "We do our duty just as the Autobots do theirs. Protect humanity. Defend Earth."

"And come back to fill out all the paperwork when it's over," Epps smirked.

"So what'll we do? Do we get to fight like you guys?" Gazzy demanded, having finished off his three-course snack.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold up. We'll get to that later, after we've shown you some other stuff," Lennox replied.

"Awwwww," Gazzy pouted. "But we've been fighting for like, forever! We're really good! Like teenage mutant ninja bird warriors!"

I felt like slapping myself. Way to go, Gaz- embarrass me all over creation!

Fang, who up till now had been a dark-haired, emo statue, decided to use his voice for once and spoke up. "Chill, Gazzy. We'll get it all figured out eventually."

"Like, do we have to wear fatigues and boots and stuff? Will I have to get my hair cut? I've always heard that military life is all hard and stuff, but I guess it's not as hard as sleeping in trees or eating rats. That's pretty hard. Oh yeah, and what's up with the name NEST? I mean, what does it stand for? Is it like an acronym or a code word for some operation? And by the way, where's the bathroom?" Nudge blurted.

Lennox and Epps looked startled that so much jabber could come from one preteen. I gave a knowing smile.

"Down the hall, first door on your right," Angel said. She gave Lennox a sweet little smile; I knew she had just read his mind.

"Okay, thanks," Nudge stood up and skipped into the hall, making a beeline for said bathroom.

"I would like to know what NEST stands for. It's kind of freaky, y'know, us being _bird _kids and having to stay at some place called _NEST_," I said, crossing my arms.

"It is actually a code word. Stands for 'non-biological extraterrestrial species team'. Personally, I like think it just means that this is a place where Autobots and humans alike can come and be safe. So the name does apply… somewhat," Lennox answered me.

"Just don't be layin' no eggs," Epps snickered.

I glared, but Iggy and Gazzy burst out laughing. I looked over to see _Fang_, of all the people on God's green earth, turning pink and almost grinning stupidly.

Angel giggled and patted my arm. "It's okay, Max. They just want to make us laugh because they want us to be happy here."

"Good to know," I said dryly, still miffed.

"Can someone please pass the chicken salad?"

Lennox and Epps both locked eyes on Total, incredulous. Total hopped up onto the table, his tail wagging expectantly. "Hello? Comprende Engleesh? I said pass the salad!"

"It's okay. There are way more surprises," Angel informed the two staring soldiers.

"Just wait till Gazzy digests that bean burrito," I said smugly, watching as said young boy wolfed down said dangerous substance.

We were assigned to our rooms next. All the boys got one room with bunk beds; us womenfolk got a similar room across the hall. It was plainly furnished, simple, but comfortable. Heck, anything is comfortable to kids who grew up in dog crates!

That evening, I got a chance to shower. Boy, that felt good. I dried myself off with a towel and peered into the small mirror. It was like a layer of skin got peeled off. All my dirt streaks and sweat stains and grease smudges and Lord knows what else was gone, rinsed down into the drain. My hair felt lighter, free. I sniffed one of my pits. Yep, I was clean, all right.

I found a small duffel bag at the foot of my bed. It had my name stenciled on it. I unzipped it. Inside were a pair of dark gray pants, a simple off-white T-shirt, and a large, baggy black jacket. There were a pair of combat boots in my size on the floor. I sighed. It feels kinda weird to be cared for, even in a boot-campish way.

I changed into my new outfit; I ripped nice big slits in the back of the jacket to allow my wings to unfold if necessary. Right when I was putting on my boots, Nudge and Angel came in. My eyebrows rose. They had new clothes too, similar to what I had on, but different. Nudge's shirt was really white, she had her pants rolled up to be capris, and her boots were a little more on the "fashionable" side. Angel was dolled up in a sky-blue shirt and skirt set, and she had on Mary Janes.

"Wow. You're like, G.I. Max or something," Nudge beamed, looking me over.

"The boots actually feel kinda comfy," I admitted, tossing my hair. Now it was back to being its original color instead of greasy, filthy dark yuck.

"Mr. Lennox gave me this outfit. He says I remind him of his daughter. Her name is Annabelle and she's only two," Angel said, brushing off her skirt. "He really misses his family, but he wants to keep them safe by being here to fight the bad guys."

"Aw." I wasn't quite warmed up to the two guys yet—I have this whole 'trust-no-one' complex going—but I could tell that they were genuine, bonafide, for real people who weren't going to swindle us or hand us over to mad scientists. It felt weird to be around people other than Mom, Ella or Jeb who just accepted what we were. Well, the fact that they worked alongside giant robots probably made dealing with bird kids a lot easier.

"Epps says I remind him of his daughters. He has like four daughters and one son," Nudge said.

"I feel so sorry for that poor child," I sighed. I could just imagine being the only male in a house full of Nudge clones. Nope!

"You wanna go see the Autobots? They're really curious about us and they want to talk to you 'cause you're the leader," Angel asked, tugging on my hand.

"Um, not really. Max no like giant alien beings that could squoosh her with their pinky," I protested. "And besides, it's been a relatively upside-down last couple of days. I'm beat."

"Pleeeease?" Angel gave me the Look. The Look that could melt a polar icecap, or make a mother melt and buy Angel whatever she wants. It's happened before. (not the bit about the icecap)

"Okay, fine. Let's get this over with," I griped, standing and popping my neck. "Let's go chat with the bots!"


	8. Chapter 8 Meet the Bots part 2

When we three girls got to the Autobots' hangar, we found Iggy, Fang and Gazzy waiting for us. There were only a few of the aliens actually present; the rest had gone out for some drive time on the island. I bit my lip as I approached the big blue and red Peterbilt that I knew was Optimus Prime.

"Uh… Hi. It's me, Maximum Ride, the, uh, bird kid from earlier," I said, trying to be upbeat. How exactly are you supposed to address an alien robot? _Good day, freakishly huge metallic sir. How's the Wi-Fi today?_ "What's up?"

I flinched as the eighteen-wheeler unfolded, reshuffled parts and pieces, and finally rose on two massive legs. The same glowing blue eyes from earlier met mine from thirty feet above me. "I do not forget anyone I am introduced to, Miss Ride. Especially not you."

I shrugged. "Just call me Max. Miss Ride sounds too…" I was going to say "girly", but settled on "Prim. And I'm anything but."

"I would like to introduce you and your flock to my comrades in arms," Optimus rumbled. As if on cue, the other vehicles, a yellow Hummer and a black Topkick, transformed.

"This is Ratchet, our medical specialist and engineer," Optimus said, indicating the Hummer bot.

"You six truly are genetic works of art," Ratchet said, peering at us intently. "However, I do have some questions relative to the youngest male's digestive processes. They seem to be… erratic."

"Erratic my foot. I'd say explosive," Iggy muttered.

"Want me to show them my skill, Max?" Gazzy asked, grinning from ear to ear.

I sighed. "No, Gazzy. I doubt all human personnel want to evacuate the immediate vicinity just yet."

"This is our weapons specialist, Ironhide." Optimus indicated the Topkick, the black bot who had shown off his cannons earlier.

"The humans consider you six to be some sort of organic weapon system. I highly doubt you are as effective as my cannons, though," Ironhide stated, giving said cannons a loving glance as he rotated one plasma barrel.

"I highly agree with you on that," I replied, nervous as I watched the gigantic weapons spin and whir.

"Knock it off, Ironhide. Stress hormones in the lead female are rising," Ratchet grunted.

"But I love demonstrating how my cannons work," Ironhide groused.

"I'd LOVE to see how they blow stuff up!" Gazzy proclaimed.

"Me too!" Iggy added. "Well, hear how they blow stuff up, leastways."

Angel took off, a blur of blonde hair and white wings, and settled on Optimus's shoulder. "Hey Max! Come up here with me!"

"Um, I think I'll pass," I said. I was still skittish.

"Come on, Max," I gawked as Fang smirked at me. "Angel's right. They aren't gonna hurt us. What is it, you scared?"

I glowered at him. "I so freaking am NOT."

"Then come on." Fang grabbed my hand, flexed his powerful dark wings, and shot straight up in the air before I could react. My wings popped out and I soared up with him, and we landed on Optimus's other shoulder.

I glanced at the Autobot's head. "This is okay with you, right?"

"It certainly is," Optimus said. He turned his head and fixed his glowing eyes on me. "We are honored to be your protectors."

"Um, thanks. Actually, we're the ones who are, er, honored to have you protecting us," I replied, trying to sound as dignified and important as was possible.

That pretty much set the mood for the rest of our visit. Gazzy and Iggy bugged the snot out of Ironhide about his cannons and destructive power and explosive substances. Angel left Optimus's shoulder and went over to see Gazzy, who was being scanned and analyzed by Ratchet. I sat by Fang, who was calmly taking in the view from way up high.

"Guess we might as well get used to this," I said to Fang.

"Used to what?" Fang asked, looking into my eyes. I felt uneasy. His eyes were intense, full of an energy I rarely saw there. Oh crap. I could feel the butterflies getting restless.

"Sitting on the shoulder of a giant alien robot," I replied, smirking, denying my girly fluttery feelings. "Among other things."

"Other things." Fang sighed. "I meant this, Max."

I looked down. We still hadn't let go of each others' hands. I felt my throat getting tight. His hands were darker than mine, calloused, rough, yet tender and capable. Capable of touching and hugging and… oh, get out the forbidden territory, Max! BAD JUJU!

"This?" I shrugged. "It's nothing."

"Really." Fang looked exasperated. "Max, a lot of things are changing, but this is something I want to never change."

I felt light-headed. "Um, okay. Uh… Fang, can we talk about this later?" _Like, when the giant robot can't hear every freakin' word we're saying?_

"Sure. Whatever." Fang let go of my hand and spread his wings, then glided down to the hangar floor. He folded his wings, shook his head, then walked out of the hangar, heading for his room.

"Crap," I muttered. _What is up with him?_

I decided to distract myself by conversing with Op. "So, uh, what do you specialize in? Ratchet's a medic and Ironhide's a demolition man… er, bot. You have a skill, right?"

"I lead," Optimus said. He began to walk across the hangar; I swayed and clung for dear life. "I have been a warrior for a long time, and before that I was a keeper of the peace back on my home planet. This war has given me many responsibilities I never wanted, but I must fulfill them as well as I can. I can fight and neutralize threats, but I can also negotiate and lend my services to whoever needs me. And above all, I put my teammates and the population of this planet first. That is my skill."

"Wow." I digested this eloquent response and sighed. "I guess I'm good at leading too. Or something like that. I've always been Flock Leader, ever since I was little. It just came naturally. Or got programmed in like all my other skills." I shifted my weight. "I'm something of an amateur, though. I have to work on my ethics and patience and… stuff."

"Those things will come with experience," Optimus made a sound that resembled a slight laugh. "Leadership grows over time. It is unfortunate that the human race is so short-lived. There is much you could accomplish if only you had the time."

"How long have you been leading, exactly?" I dared to ask.

Optimus mulled it over for a few seconds. "To put it in human terms, for millennia."

"Oh." I felt very small and insignificant. So much for my wonderful accomplishments!

That night, as I lay in my new bed, listening to Angel's slow, peaceful breathing below me and Nudge mumbling in her sleep between light snores, I thought about a lot of things. I thought about happy blue skies with puffy white storybook clouds and me flying in those skies. I thought about homemade chocolate-chip cookies and Mom and Ella, my half-sister. I thought about Ari, rest his soul, and Jeb and all that had happened in the last year. And most of all, I thought about Fang. About how far we'd come together, how strange all these new feelings felt to me. Or were they really new at all?

Screw all my messed-up emotions, I thought glumly as I rolled over on my side. I curled up under my blanket and sighed, hugging my knees.

_Hello, Max._

_ Hello to you too, Voice_. I rolled my eyes. _So this is 'the nest', eh? Very funny._

_ It's not a laughing matter. _The Voice said disapprovingly.

_Huh? Oh, let me guess… we're about to be in terrible, insurmountable danger. _I made sure there was lots of sarcasm in that thought.

_You'll see. _There was a pause. _Soon._

I felt like ripping my hair out. "Great," I said aloud, wondering what horrible fate lurked around the corner. _Guess I'll find out eventually_. I thought, as I slipped into dreamland.


	9. Chapter 9 The Makeout

The next morning, our alarm clock rang at gol-dang 5:30 A.M.! (Or, if you want to sound military-savvy, 0530 hours). My eyes snapped open and I bolted upright… only to pitch forward off the top bunk and fall straight down to the hard floor. Only a hasty extending of my wings kept me from doing a total face-plant.

"Uggghh." Nudge sat up slowly, rubbing her eyes. "What the heck are they trying to DO to us?"

"It's called wakey-wakey time." I folded my wings, relieved to have preserved my dignity, and clapped twice. "Up and at 'em, ladies!"

"Where do we go? What do we do?" Nudge asked groggily.

"We go eat breakfast, of course."

Angel was already dressed and waiting, tapping one foot. She smiled at me. "I'm hungry. Let's hurry!"

Nudge stumbled into action, going through the motions of getting dressed like a zombie. I had slept in my clothes, just in case something happened during the night (you get paranoid like that after a lifetime of fighting, being kidnapped and other such trauma), so I simply stretched my limbs and yawned big and loud.

After Nudge FINALLY finished getting dressed, we marched into the hallway and made our way to what was supposed to be our own private mess hall. It had a sign on it that said AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY. We figured that meant us and some select NEST people.

When I opened the door, I saw what was waiting for us and began to drool. There were pancakes and sausages and scrambled eggs with cheese and hashbrowns. There was an orange juice dispenser and a milk dispenser. There was real maple syrup and biscuits with gravy and fruit. OMG.

And there were Fang, Iggy and the Gasman waiting for us. Along with Total, who was wolfing down a plate loaded with everything.

"Beat you to it, Max!" Gazzy hollered.

"Whatever," I snorted. I walked in and took in the plain but roomy surroundings. "Good grief, smells like IHOP in here."

We ate like little piggies with wings. After stuffing ourselves, we lounged around for a bit, making small talk and discussing our new situation.

"I love it here. I mean, it's like we're actually in boot camp or something. I bet we'll even get to learn cool fighting moves and stuff," Gazzy sighed dreamily. "I mean, I know we're already super-good at fighting, but we might get to use actual _weapons…_" I could just see the flying bullets and mushroom clouds in his eyes.

"Heck, no. I wanna explore the island," Nudge beamed. "I bet it's beautiful on the surface."

"Probably just some random chunk of volcanic rock," Iggy said depressingly.

Fang was quiet. He was turning his fork over and over in his hands.

"So, uh, guys…" I licked the maple syrup off my lips. "What do you think we're gonna have to do now that we're here?"

Gazzy frowned and scratched his head. Iggy burped. Nudge cocked her head and thought for a minute, then said "Maybe we're supposed to help the NEST team when they go to take out Deceptibots."

"Decepticons," I corrected. "That's the most likely possibility, seeing how we'd be totally useless just sitting around on our butts. The government wouldn't want us here unless they planned on using us for something. Even if it is taking out alien trash."

"I think the Decepticons are scary," Angel said quietly. I almost fell out of my chair. Angel's only six, but she can take a lot of things most teenagers couldn't handle. If something actually scared her, it had to be utterly terrifying. "I read the flying one's mind a little bit. It's full of bad things. Worse than the things the scientists at Itex thought. Worse than anything the School ever did." She shivered. "They need to be stopped."

I bit my lip, then drew Angel close to me. "Hey, don't worry. It'll be okay. We've faced bad guys before. These bad guys are just really… huge and stuff. The bad guys never win."

"Yeah they do," Fang muttered. "The ones who managed to do this to us." He flexed his wings slightly.

With that said, he got up and walked out quickly.

I stared after him, my mouth almost falling open. I almost did the oh-so-attractive fish-gasping expression. "Be back in a minute," I told the Flock, then I hi-tailed it after Mr. Doom-and-Gloom.

"What the freaking heck is the matter with you?" I seethed, stalking behind Fang as he went down the hallway toward his room.

"Nothing," Fang growled.

I caught up with him and grabbed him by the arm. "Nothing, my foot. You're mad at me about something. Now what is it? Is something going on I should know about?"

"Something's going on, all right," Fang yanked his arm away. Then he turned and got me by both my shoulders and rammed me back into the wall. I just about started a knock-down drag-out, but then my eyes met his and I froze. Was that… pain? Confusion? Both?

"Something's _been_ going on for a while now," Fang said under his breath, his face inches from mine. "You're just to stubborn to see it. Or maybe you don't want to, is that it?"

I glared defiantly. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Yes you do," Fang never blinked. I felt dizzy. "There's always been a you and me, Max. Always. Problem is, you don't seem to get that."

"I…" I was shocked. I am a word _queen_, and now I had no words!

"You're always running away from it. I'm always here, waiting, but for what? For someone who's gonna just keep pushing me away? We were never just friends, Max. Ever since we were little, we've _known_.

"We're made for each other, Max. It's destiny. There's no one else in the world I could be with." His wings unfolded, spread toward me, casting shadows over me. I suddenly felt weak, breathless and made of putty. Oh God. My own wings slipped out and spread toward him, sliding under his wings. Oh… God… Why did it have to feel so right? Since when was Fang a romantic Valentino anyway? Had he lost his mind?

Then again, when male hormones start percolating, anything can happen.

"It's my destiny to save the world," I said, fighting to stay sane. "That doesn't leave much room for… anything else."

"So? We'll make room." Fang gave me a half smile. "Max."

"Fang," I blurted, feeling stupid and wishy-washy and idiotic.

He leaned in. I raised my chin to meet him head-on. Contact was made. Lips pressed together, lips moving, arms moving, hands moving…

I felt a lot of things at once. It was like an out-of-body experience. I saw myself kissing Fang, making out with Fang in a dark hallway at 6:00 in the morning, tasting the maple syrup left on his lips, smelling that familiar yet alien Fang smell. Oh God. Finally we came up for air and slowly broke the last kiss, opening our eyes. I saw Fang's face and it seemed as if I had never seen him before in my life.

It was beautiful.

And completely, totally terrifying.

"Oh God," I choked, then tore away and ran down the hall.

I wasn't quite sure where I was going exactly. I rounded corners, raced down long hallways, and flew up whole flights of stairs. I pushed past some sleepy soldiers and overturned a cart loaded with dishes. Then I saw a door open, bolted through it, and suddenly I was airborne with free tropical winds lifting my wings.

I soared high in the air, frustrated and torn. None of it made sense to my makeout-fried brain. My thoughts were scattered, orbiting around a mental image of Fang's face and his black-hole eyes. I beat my wings furiously, gaining altitude, and began to circle the island. Nudge had been right; it was beautiful. The ocean was clear and pristine, and the dawning sun made everything glow.

I finally came down and landed on an open airstrip (how appropriate). I saw movement to my left and whirled. There stood Lennox, Epps and some other soldiers. They were speechless.

"Son of a…" Epps shook his head. "That was amazing."

They weren't staring at me like I was a freak or a circus creature. They were staring like they had just seen a ghost. Or, more likely, an angel.

"You have a spectacular gift," Lennox murmured.

"Thanks." I stood there, still shaken by my Fang ordeal, sizing up the other men. They didn't look threatening. Just awed out of their frickin' minds.

Sorry, boys. Get used to it. 'Cause you ain't seen _nuthin' _yet!


	10. Chapter 10 Fang's Blog

**You are reading Fang's Blog. Welcome!**

**Today's Date: Top-secret**

**You are visitor number 40, 654, 117**

**Ok, so maybe updating my blog is against the rules, but since when have we ever paid attention to rules? All's well, we're not in dog crates, life's good.**

**I can't tell you where I am or what I'm doing, but I can tell you some pointers that may just save your life.**

**First off: Let's go back to our last wonderful adventure, the one where we forestalled mass genocide by stopping the kooks of Itex and all its little branch companies. The one where we got all of you to help us fight against tyranny, blah blah blah. (Thanks for the help, by the way!) Well, a lot of people died that day, some innocent, some not. No one should have died in the first place. All of that happened because someone tried to do something really stinkin' evil for "the greater good". HEL-LO? Anyone recall what the road to the bad place is paved with? Anyone remember Hitler? Yeah. I mean, the world isn't perfect, and life is inevitably gonna suck, but no one has the right to step up and try to take control by getting rid of others just because those others are different.**

**OK, so I got on a soapbox there. The POINT is, there's a lesson to be learned. One that no one has managed to grasp so far. Someone has to start making a change. The insane megalomaniacs gain power and abuse it. All the good people sit on their butts and get hurt. Why don't we reverse the process? If you're gonna be a rock star, sing songs about freedom and positive stuff. If you're gonna be a teacher, teach so that kids will learn about ethics and not killing each other. If you're gonna be a politician, be a politician who can make all the stupid politicians actually look stupid! Speak out for freedom! Not just freedom of speech or religion, but the freedom to _live_. To live without being afraid that someone is gonna "retire" you 'cause you can't walk or kidnap you to perform gruesome experiments on you. You think that stuff only happens in movies? Think again, geniuses. The Director of the School was just _one person_, yet she was able to mastermind all that terrible stuff. Similarly, one person could dream up the plan to stop world hunger or cure cancer. It's that simple. Let's start using our brains for something great instead of trying to put them on sticks! (inside joke; you wouldn't get it) In other words, what is your mind there for? My wings are made to fly. Your mind is made to think and reason and do things to help other people, not just to make you a selfish brat.**

**Secondly: Saving the world may be our job, but it's your job to take care of what we save. Be a caretaker, not just a taker. I'm not asking you to go vegetarian or cover your roof in solar panels, but humans are a very wasteful species. Even recombinants can be slobs; believe me, I know, I live with them. Recycle your trash! Don't start fires! Conserve trees! And all that jazz. Making our world a better place involves intellectual _and _physical work. You have to give people the right education, the right values, and most of all, the right environment to put those gifts to work.**

**Thirdly: If you don't trust your toaster, smash it with a sledgehammer. That's all I can say about that. I know it's random, but… whatever.**

** I spent a lot of time on that touchy-feely little speech thing, fyi. Take time to read it till it's burned on your brain. Take it from a bird kid who knows… the world can be a pretty crappy place when the crazies are in charge.**

** Fang, out.**

Fang closed down his laptop and sighed, shutting it. He leaned back against the wall and sighed again. Since he was a little rattled with Max, he spent his energy making an un-Fang-ish declaration that he hoped his readers would understand. What had happened in Germany, and everywhere else, had made an impression on him. He had to use his access to millions of people for good. He had to teach them the importance of what they took for granted, teach them how to use their skills however he could. Normal human people had a chance to get into Congress and stuff. Normal human people could do anything they wanted to: change the world, have relationships…

He shook his head. His dark hair fell into his eyes. Fang didn't know what to say to Max. He was sick of her, but he couldn't stand it when they were apart. He knew why he was sick of her. It was a "so close yet so far away" situation. He wanted to be there at her side, but not in the way he had always been. Instead of following her as a subordinate, a friend, he wanted to follow her as a loyal partner. A lover. A _mate._

Why couldn't she see what he saw? Their lives were too short to waste on being distant and constantly in denial. He wanted to make some memories before the Apocalypse. That was all Fang wanted. A chance to love Max before saving the world destroyed their lives.

Fang closed his eyes and clenched a fist. Sometimes he wanted to punch Max in the face, then kiss her. It made no sense. Ever since they had "separated" over her decision to allow Ari into the Flock, these raging, turbulent feelings had invaded his heart. Now they were back together, a family, but the separation-anxiety didn't fade. In fact, it just got worse.

What he wanted to put on his blog was:

_I love Max. Problem is, Max doesn't want me to love her. She's being a turd. I want to stomp on her head and make out at the same time. This sucks._


	11. Chapter 11 Enemies Near and Far

The spy watched from the safety of green foliage. He knew he was safe from any security equipment or detection devices. NEST's technology was programmed to search for and take out mechanical threats; an innocuous, seemingly organic crab would be left untouched.

Tiny lenses that comprised the spy's "eyes" focused and compiled data as he observed the recombinant human-avian hybrid known as "Maximum Ride". She was airborne, using her wings to propel herself through the air in a most inefficient, un-Cybertronian method. Blundering organics. They wasted their life energy doing tasks that were completely unnecessary; they lacked the intelligence to invent more efficient methods of air travel. The spy pushed aside all computations that were not relevant to this task. His rants against the humans could be saved for a later date.

His enhanced data collectors recorded every available feature of the female mutant. Humans were such an ever-changing lot, never consistent for more than a week. He updated files, reshuffled previous bits of information, and set about recording the subject's flight pattern, analyzing weaknesses and points of articulation. He uploaded her biosigns, her retinal patterns and various external data. When she landed and addressed the meatsacks, he recorded her vocal pattern and voice levels. He felt a cold ripple of accomplishment run through his processor. Now that he was sure she would be staying here on the island, he could inform his superiors where to strike. Faster than any human supercomputer could measure time, his transmission shot out toward the waiting receptors of his masters.

The spy powered down his retrieval system and remained immobile, retaining the appearance of a stray Indian Ocean crab huddled in the grass. _Foolish humans_, he thought smugly as he went into a much-needed recharge, _they know not what is about to befall them. The mutants will not be a threat to us much longer._

The waves crashed against a hard, blackened shelf of rock, sending up spray that glittered on the metallic sheen of Starscream's legs. The Decepticon did not mind the spray. His attention was focused on matters more important than that.

He processed the spy's message, and if he were capable of doing so, he would have smiled a malignant smile. It would be relatively simple to infiltrate the NEST base and assassinate the recombinants. Even their dog would be reduced to a mere pile of detritus. The only reason Starscream had not eliminated them himself when they met was that he had not believed they even existed till he saw them for himself. Now he and the other Decepticons knew that their so-called human allies were not lying.

He received another transmission and acknowledged the order, with more than a few feelings of detest. His master wanted to speak with him directly.

Starscream leapt into the air and transformed in a blur of motion, then flew away at an incredible speed. The cold North Pacific wind did not affect him, but he was irritated at the ice that kept forming on him. He activated an internal thermal heater and boosted his shields to repel the sleeting rain. The sky was dark and full of swollen clouds; he flew unseen behind them.

He swerved, spiraled down, then disappeared inside a maw of rock that appeared to be part of another desolate, lifeless island. The tunnel was gigantic, wide enough to accommodate a flier larger than Starscream. It led down miles below the sea to a vast network of recently-blasted caverns. Starscream morphed back to his bipedal form and screeched to a halt, his talon-like feet scouring deep sears into the rock, sending up sparks.

"You summoned me, Lord Megatron?" Starscream rasped, bowing.

A metal giant more imposing than Starscream lurked in the shadows, all but hidden by the total blackness. His burning red optics cast a hellish glow. Starscream's vision was unhindered by the lack of light, however. He could see what a human eye couldn't; the wounds still unhealed on his master's body, wounds inflicted by Optimus Prime and allies of the accursed Autobots. The battle in which the Fallen, mightiest of the Decepticons, had been killed had taken its toll on Megatron as well. Megatron would not be facing any combat with Autobots for a while, unless he could obtain advanced repairs. And sadly, the Decepticon ranks were short on medics, even with the reinforcements Megatron had summoned from the bowels of the Decepticon flagship, the _Nemesis_.

"I have received a message from the spy," Megatron growled.

"As have I," Starscream replied. "It is time to send in the pretender."

"Indeed," Megatron wheezed. His vocal processor had been affected by his wounds. "Remember, Starscream… We must gather our forces and prepare to strike at the human-Autobot alliance anew. Until then, we must prevent them from gaining any sort of advantage. These mutants are supposedly 'weapons' of some kind. To let them live would be a mistake."

"Understood, Master," Starscream agreed. "I have the full support and trust of the insect organizations who wish to see them dead as well. They go by many names: Itexicon, the School, the Institute, and others. They have many leaders who share our interest in overturning the balance of this world. And they are stupid enough to assume that they will be spared when we enslave this planet."

Megatron's crimson eyes blazed brighter. "That day draws ever nearer," he said softly, as if addressing a lover, so dear was the notion to him.

Soon he would get his revenge. Soon he would take control of this insect world. And soon, there would be no one left to stop him from doing so.


	12. Chapter 12 Fun at the Beach

"YAAAAAAAY!"

The Gasman was hanging out of the side of our jeep, acting like a total idiot. Our jeep was part of a small convoy that sped along at a brisk pace on the dirt trail that cut through the heart of Diego Garcia. I sat next to Angel, who was holding Total. "It's so pretty." Angel said, taking in all the tropical flowers and green, rainforesty vegetation.

"For once we're not stuck in some godforsaken hole. I could hang here anytime," Total sighed dreamily, no doubt imagining pina coladas with little striped umbrellas stuck in them, hot girl dogs lying on beach towels, and ocean breezes. I hated to rain on his parade, but that's just not how our lives seem to ever work out.

I glanced at the jeep behind us. I saw Fang wedged between Iggy and Nudge, looking moody. I looked away and sighed, trying to forget the morning's events.

"Sit down! I mean, you can fly and all, but chill," Lennox ordered Gazzy. He was the one driving us around on a wunnerful tour of the island.

"So we're not supposed to fly around here? I heard one of the brass fussing about my little stunt earlier," I called to Lennox.

He nodded. "It's too risky. The last thing we need is for the wrong set of eyes to see you. Or worse, Decepticon optics."

"I see you have improved your vocabulary," A deep, mechanical voice growled. I nearly jumped straight up. A motorcycle came up beside us, matching the jeep's speed.

"Oh. Max, this is Knockout. Autobot, duh," Lennox gestured at the bike. "How's it goin', Knockout?"

"Very well. I am interested in the children. I have never seen humans like them," Knockout said, rounding a turn with us.

I scowled. "We're actually only 98% human. The other 2% is bird DNA."

Gazzy was staring at Knockout, goggle-eyed. "Can I ride him? Pleeeeease?"

Before I could say "heck no", Knockout answered for me. "Yes, you may, as long as you do not, DO NOT, scuff my chrome."

"Cool!" Gazzy jumped out of his seat and landed perfectly on the bike seat. He grabbed the handlebars and grinned wickedly. "Awesome," he breathed.

I watched as Knockout sped on ahead, the Gasman clinging to him. "How many other Autobots are there anyway?" I asked.

"More every week. They come to Earth to join up with Prime and the rest so they can regroup against the Decepticons. Some of them haven't seen each other in thousands of years," Lennox told me.

"Huh." I raised my eyebrows. "Long time no see, for real."

"The Autobots are wholly inorganic beings, but they understand our human thought processes and actions very well. We have civil wars, they have civil wars. Besides fighting Decepticons, the Autobots are proficient at giving advice. Very helpful advice," Lennox told me.

"They should make Optimus president," Angel piped up.

"He's not a natural citizen. Born, or whatever, on a whole different planet and all," I answered her. She scowled, disappointed.

"I wonder if we're even natural citizens. Us being genetically-altered mutants and all," Iggy called over, having heard my statement. Raptor-perfect hearing is but one of our many fun characteristics.

I thought on that. "Having presidential aspirations, Ig?"

"Might as well. I could do a better job than the people who run our government any day," Iggy retorted. I saw Lennox grin slightly.

I pictured Iggy in a suit, addressing Washington politicians. It made me want to have a stroke.

We made a pit stop at the beach. It was a secure area inside a lagoon, sheltered from prying eyes. Gazzy was already there. He had stripped off his shirt and plunged into the clear water, wings and all. Knockout was in bipedal form. I personally thought he looked… well, dangerous, even for an Autobot.

"Last one in's a rotten mutant egg!" Nudge hollered, running as fast as she could toward the water. Iggy scrambled after her. Fang stayed in the jeep, stone-faced.

"Come on, Max. I want to show the Army men my skill!" Angel said, tugging at my sleeve. I hopped out of the jeep and ran with Angel. We splashed into the warm water and a splash war instantly started.

Fang climbed out of the jeep and walked by himself down the beach, away from us. I watched him out of the corner of my eye, wondering what he was gonna do. He took off his shirt and I couldn't help but notice that his lanky form had taken on some musculature. Make that a LOT of musculature. He spread his dark wings and let the breeze run through and over his feathers, staring pensively out at the endless stretch of ocean. What I wouldn't give to know what goes on in that male brain of his…

"Max."

I looked down. Angel was giving me a small smile. "He just needs to be alone for now. He's kind of confused about some stuff."

"I know." I rolled my eyes, then brightened. "Hey, show them your skill!" I turned to Lennox and Epps, who were standing by the jeep. "Hey, check this out!" I yelled, pointing at Angel.

She went under. Minutes passed. I could see the men's smiles vanishing to be replaced by concern, then fear. "What's going on?" Epps demanded, jogging toward the water. "Is she okay?"

"Here I am!" Angel called, having surfaced after a whopping seven minutes underwater. "I can breathe underwater like a fish," she told the men.

Lennox and Epps exchanged an incredulous glance. "I guess seeing is believing after all. You told us that back when the brass were questioning you, but… wow," Lennox admitted.

I waddled out of the water, flicking my wings to let the moisture roll off. "Yeah, and y'know what else? She can _talk _to fish too."

"Didn't hear you mention that," Epps muttered.

A series of swift thuds made me turn around. Knockout was approaching the water, still bipedal. He stopped short and peered at me. I cocked an eyebrow. "You must be Maximum Ride," He growled.

"Yep. Wings and all," I said pleasantly. "What, do I disappoint?"

"No. I am simply interested in your genetic makeup and abilities. Your personality is rather engaging as well. We could not converse during the drive, so I wish to do so now," Knockout rumbled. Then his head turned sharply and his eyes flashed. "Oh no," he muttered. He sounded upset.

"What? What is it?" I demanded, looking all around. No Flyboys, no Decepticreeps, no Erasers.

"_Them_," Knockout groaned.

I heard a loud roar and almost took off. Then I saw the two compact cars speeding down the beach toward us. Lennox saw them and sighed. "The Twins," he said, jerking a thumb in their direction. "Knew you'd have to meet them eventually."

"What? Are they dangerous? Do they dislike birds?" I asked, nervous.

"Uh, well…" Epps looked half amused, half nervous. "Depends on your definition of _dangerous._"

I almost yelled in alarm as the compact cars hurtled toward us, not slowing down one bit. (Note: I almost _yelled_, not _screamed_. Wussy pussies _scream_. Not teenaged mutant avian hybrids). My yell died in my throat as I watched both cars change shape and gracefully leap over us. Lennox and Epps watched with wry grins. The Flock stopped all activities and stared. Gazzy let out a heartfelt "Coooooool."

Then…

Then Twin 1 landed on top of Twin 2, who let out an indignant howl.

"Whaddya think you doin', ya friggin' meathead?" Twin 2 demanded, shoving his "brother" off.

"Thith ith your fault, thtupid," Twin 1 shot back, rolling neatly. He hopped to his feet and kicked his counterpart in the face. "I wath gonna impreth 'em with my acrobatic thkills! An' you methed it up!"

"Yo _face _is messed up," Declared Twin 2.

"Tho's yours, geniuth. _Twinth?_" Twin 1 waved his arms emphatically.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Break it up, guys," Epps approached the pair, who immediately quieted down and swiveled their heads to look at him. I noticed they were shorter than the other Autobots and… maybe, if I guess right, a lot younger?

"Flock, meet Mudflap and Skids. Mudflap, Skids, meet the Flock. Optimus briefed you about them, I presume?"

"Sho' did," Skids replied.

"Wingth, huh? Thweet." Mudflap studied us, no doubt scanning us through and through with his odd blue eyes. "Wish we had wingth."

"You'd be the freakinest lookin' thing this side o' the universe, bro," Skids stated.

"Like you'd look any better?" Mudflap retorted.

"Hey. Save the banter for later," Epps shook his head. He was about to say something else, but then his pocket radio went off. He clicked it on, listened intently to something important, then clicked it off and put it back in his pocket. He sighed. "Beach party's over, people. Bird kids, hustle back to the Jeeps. We got some company to go see. Some very important, very _very _top-secret company. C'mon, triple time!" He clapped his hands for emphasis. We scurried out of the water, dripping wet and more than a bit confused. I actually got into the same Jeep as Fang. We exchanged skeptical glances, more preoccupied with survival than our previous quagmire.

Just who these top-secret guests were, I would like to know. So I could decide whether or not I needed to kick their butts at first sight.


	13. Chapter 13 The Scientists

Just who were these top-secret visitors, anyway?

I wondered this as I sized them up while they were chatting amiably with our best buds Lennox & Epps. One was a woman, maybe in her twenties or early thirties, Chinese or Japanese, I wasn't experienced enough to tell. She was almost as skinny as me… almost. She was certainly much more buff than most human females I'd laid eyes on. Was she a mutant? I wasn't sure.

The other guest was a guy, a whopping big guy with red cheeks, golden hair and twinkling blue eyes. _God, he looks like one of Gazzy and Angel's uncles, if they even had uncles. _They were mismatched, acted like they knew the place, and didn't carry an "I am evil" vibe. Not that THAT means anything anymore, but still.

The woman glanced over at me and the Flock. I saw curiosity in her dark, narrow eyes. "Maximum Ride?"

"Yeah?" I put my hands on my hips, ready to fight or flee.

"I am Kaminari Ishihara. I have worked with NEST in the past and hope to do so more in the near future. I was incredulous when I learned you were here, but now that I see all of you for myself…" She shook her head, amazed. "There is so much I could ask, but I will not. I am accustomed to dealing with robots and computers and cybernetic entities, not people who have been through hell. It's enough for me to know you're safe from the enemy." She extended one graceful but swift hand. Something about this woman just screamed _I can kick some major butt and look good doing it._

Well then. I can relate to that!

I didn't shake her hand, though. "Hell's an understatement, but okay, you get the general idea."

"Dr. Ishihara has pioneered research and experiments for anti-Decepticon weapons. Weapons you will most likely end up using to defend yourselves," Lennox said. He sighed. "We went on several missions together, and I trust her completely. She's risked her life to save the world too many times."

"All in a day's work," Kaminari said coolly. "Someone has to do it."

"That's what we're here for," I replied.

"I am Petr Andronov," the blonde man said in a Russian accent. He did not extend his hand. I saw why. He was holding a furry tarantula in one palm while the other grasped a small field guide.

"And you do what? Scare the Decepticons with bugs?" I quipped, indicating the tarantula.

"If only it were that easy. I have more than enough bugs." Petr smiled ruefully. "You want to pet Marishka? She is harmless." He held up the spider.

I backed away. "Uh, thanks but no thanks."

"I WANNA PET THE SPIDER!" Gazzy materialized at my side, eyes pasted on the bug. "Can I, huh? Can I?"

"Be careful. She's rare. And expensive," Petr warned, cautiously handing the tarantula to Gazzy, who uttered a heartfelt "Whoa."

"You and your bugs, man," Epps muttered, shaking his head.

"They're both here with a shipment of weapons specially designed for your use and ownership. You'll find that these weapons aren't guns or bombs, but highly scientific byproducts of meticulous research. They work well on Decepticons. We know this because, obviously, we are still alive after testing them," Lennox announced. He led me, the Flock, and the two scientists into a different room. This one was big and metallic and reminded me of a giant boxing ring. There was a table with some large cases on it. They looked new. And shiny.

I glanced at the rest of the Flock. We were all in matching uniforms now, but they were nowhere near as bad as the ones we had worn while we went to "normal school" with Anne. We all had on gray T-shirts with "NEST" stenciled in black across the front. We all had on camo fatigue-style britches and combat boots. I had my hair in a braid, while Nudge had a ponytail on top of her head. Angel, of course, had pigtails. With little camo ribbons. I wonder who she had to mind-zap to get those?

In short, I assumed we were in for a workout of some kind.

Lennox opened one of the thick cases and pulled out a slender, metallic device. I wasn't sure what to compare it to; it was unlike anything I'd ever clapped eyes on. Which is saying something.

"This, ladies and gentlemen, is a portable, directional EMP weapon. It utilizes internal focal points and Gamma reflectors in order to fire an electromagnetic pulse in a single direction instead of a 360-degree span. It cannot 'kill' a Decepticon, but it _can_ alter the Energon flow within the enemy's internal system. In short, it's a high-tech Decepticon taser," he explained, turning the weapon over in his hands. "The original prototype created by Dr. Ishihara has been modified to deliver a more powerful burst that will sustain a longer period of confusion in the victim. This weapon is both light and easily carried, and comes with a recharge pack that can be worn over the back. The sling, holster, whatever, is composed of a single long, flexible linear battery that recharges the weapon while it is not in use."

I glanced over at Fang, Nudge, Gazzy (who was still caressing Marishka the tarantula), Iggy, and Angel. They were all mesmerized by the prospect of a weapon we could use to zap robots. Those might have come in handy back when we were slapping around Flyboys… if Flyboys even existed anymore.

Lennox set the EMP thingy down and picked up a different gun. It looked like a souped-up rifle.

"This is Mr. Andronov's invention, a battery-powered gun that fires… well, batteries. The batteries are coated in a special adhesive and attach instantly to a Decepticon to deliver a full discharge. Given the right amount of energy, it's enough to give a Decepticon the equivalent of a brief seizure." He hefted a much bigger version in his other hand. "The bigger the battery, the better the charge, the more damage to the Decepticon."

"So we're gonna have to learn how to use these?" I asked, eyeing the EMP stick. I really really _really _wanted to see how it worked on some random obnoxious bird-kid destroying robot monster.

"Yeah. From what we've learned about you all, this should be no sweat," Epps grinned. "Still, neither of these things compares to a good ole'-fashioned volley of sabot rounds."

"So you say," Kaminari intoned saucily.

I walked over to the table and picked up the EMP stick. It felt natural and useful in my hand. I twirled it a little, then slipped it back into its sheath. "Way cool," I grunted.

The rest of the afternoon was spent doing what we bird kids do best: fighting. To my surprise, Dr. Ishihara was waiting in the gym for us. She had on barely-modest shorts, athletic shoes, and a skin-tight black half-top. Her straight black hair was in a strict bun. She looked ready to karate-chop some poor sap in half.

"Who wants to go first?" she challenged.

"Me." I didn't have to go up the steps to the sparring mat. I just, you know, leaped. I landed in front of her, poised to inflict pain. But this was just a mock fight, so I had to play nice. No broken bones, no bloody noses, no foul play.

Oh well. I could still kick her butt.

First came my _favorite_ moves, the kung-fu kind that require hair-trigger reaction timing to avoid. I blocked and sidestepped and wove my way through a series of lightning-fast kicks, lunges, chops and more kicks. We were totally silent, locked in a cocoon of concentration. Finally my raptor vision won out and I found an opening. I moved like a ninja and swept her off her feet… literally. She fell back and landed on her palms, then jumped back up with catlike reflexes. She wasn't just good, she was _good._

But, of course, not as good as _moi_.

I glanced over at Fang. He had been watching me the whole time, dark eyes locked on me, his face an impassive slate.

"Your skills are, quite frankly, excellent," Kaminari panted, allowing me a brief congratulatory smile. "Apparently you don't need practice, given your history of fights and close encounters."

"Naw, some practice would be great. What with all the Erasers extinct, there's nothing for us to practice _with_," I retorted. "I'm not complaining, but… well, it's been blissfully boring, apart from the giant robots and stuff."

"Me next!" Gazzy declared, setting Marishka on Iggy's head. Iggy looked uncomfortable.

I smirked. This day just kept getting better and better. And surprisingly, the Voice wasn't whispering omens of doom in my head.

_Max, this is just the lull before the storm hits. It's valuable preparation time. Use it well._

I so totally jinx myself sometimes.


	14. Chapter 14 Gathering Clouds

He stood rigidly at attention, doing his best to look like an ordinary, non-threatening U.S. soldier on guard duty. His helmet and gear hid the screws and servos that gave away the fact that he was an animatronic, not a flesh and blood human. No, he wasn't even an animatronic. He was… something else. Something a lot more dangerous.

Humans flocked around, passing him by, chattering in their slow language about inconsequential things such as plumbing, sexual relations, who was mad at who, and which football team was going to win Saturday's big game. He did not speak, nor was he spoken to. The humans mistook the frozen expression on his face as a mark of deep thought or personal trauma. They avoided him. Well, that was just fine. He wanted to rip out their organs anyway.

He was on a mission. He had collaborated with the former scientists of Itex, following his master's orders, and had achieved the appearance of a white human male with black hair and brown eyes. Instead of scanning a park attraction as his predecessor had done, he had acquired a unique, manufactured mechanical body that could look perfectly human… with a few minor design flaws, such as the metal joints and exposed screws here and there.

The Decepticon remained dutiful, standing at his post, biding his time.

Soon.

Marian Janssen paced in a circle, her stiff blonde hair combed out straight. She cast nervous glances at the laptop that sat at her desk. Finally a low chime sounded and she sat, ready to do what she did best: business.

The screen went blank, then a strange image filled the box. Marian stared at the jagged, angular alien visage. She didn't recognize this one. She had only seen the one called Starscream during previous communications. This one looked more dangerous, if that was possible. And familiar. Wasn't this the one who had broadcasted the demand for some American kid? Her gut twisted. She had a feeling she was looking at the fearsome leader of the Decepticons himself.

"Marian Janssen," a sinister, booming voice intoned. "You… _requested_ a meeting with me?"

"Yes, I did." Marian allowed a hint of anger in her voice. "I want to know how you're going to pay me for all these units you're assimilating into your ranks. They do take a lot of time and money to produce." She was talking about the robotic Erasers, the ones that could fly. After Maximum Ride and the Flock led a crusade to destroy Itex's might, there was a limited supply of "Flyboys" left; Marian was a bit disgruntled by the fact that the Decepticons liked to "take" instead of "trade".

"Whatever are you talking about?" Megatron growled.

"You got me out of prison. You set me up here in the middle of nowhere, where I can manage my projects in peace. But I still must demand that you recompense me for every Eraser you claim for yourself."

"How naïve," Megatron sneered. Marian's hackles rose.

"You see, _Marian_, you do not understand the true implications of the situation. Let's look at the facts. You are a pulp-filled, fragile, grasping insect; I am a god, a god forged of steel and ambition. You are completely at my mercy. You are in no position to _demand_ anything."

"I don't understand," Marian mumbled. Real fear, fear she hadn't felt since Max almost dropped her to her death, froze her blood.

"You don't have to," Megatron hissed.

Right then, the laptop went blank. It then transformed into a horrifying, cat-sized mechanical monstrosity with blazing red eyes. It flung itself at Marian's head, slicing into her skull before she could even scream.

Megatron received the confirmation that Janssen was dead and filed it away for future reference. One insect down, many more to go. He sent a query to Soundwave regarding the other hidden insect "leaders" who were doing business with the Decepticons. Soundwave's reply was brief and to-the-point: they were cooperating splendidly. They were more intelligent that Janssen was… had been.

Now he would have full control of her robotic soldiers. They had so many flaws he considered them to be trash, but they were worth utilizing. Decepticons could improve and revolutionize the pathetic technology. It would be no great effort to do so. They were totally obedient and capable of great destruction; they were expendable tools. Useful expendable tools.

His army would soon be ready.


	15. Chapter 15 Revelations

"Max?"

I mumbled something incoherent as I snapped awake. My adrenaline spiked and I was instantly alert, ready to defend myself from God-knows-what. Then my night vision kicked in and I saw Angel peeping at me. She was standing on the little metal ladder that allowed normal humans to climb up to the top bunk.

"Yeah? What is it?" I whispered, blinking. I sat up and stretched my arms.

Angel climbed into bed with me, dragging Celeste with her. I could smell the nastiness all over that poor stuffed bear and made a mental note to wash Angel's beloved toy. "Max, will you come with me? I want to go talk to the Autobots. Now."

"It's like two in the morning," I protested, smoothing her rumpled blonde curls. "What, is something up? Have you picked up some thoughts like 'danger' or 'evil'?"

"No." Angel's voice was uncharacteristically matter-of-fact. "I just feel like me and you should go talk to the Autobots, that's all."

I mulled over this. Usually when Angel "felt" like something, it would be prudent to go do whatever it was she "felt" like we should do.

Even if it was at gol-freaking _two in the morning._

"Okay, fine." I leaned down and looked upside-down at Nudge, who was solidly unconscious, her mouth open. I motioned for Angel to climb down, then I simply jumped. I landed softly and frowned. We wore nondescript gray outfits to sleep in, a shirt and a pair of shorts. So I slipped on my boots and grabbed my new black jacket. I ran my fingers through my hair, tossed it, and sighed. "C'mon, let's go."

We made our way through the winding hallways and dull passages that led to the Bots' hangar. Now and then we would meet a security guard, but Angel "convinced" him we were never there.

When we reached the hangar, I was surprised to see almost all the Autobots there, some transformed, some not. There were quite a few I had never seen before. The Twins were there, and so were Knockout, Ironhide, and Ratchet. Optimus dominated the scene. There ain't nothin' like a red and blue paint job _with hot rod flames_ to make a giant metal alien stand out.

They knew we were there before we even walked through the doorway. "What brings you here at this hour?" Optimus inquired, not angrily, but out of curiosity.

"I couldn't sleep," Angel declared. She flapped her wings once and soared to perch on a low-lying beam. I remained on the ground, silently observing everything.

"I have had the opportunity to converse with your brother on the subject of explosive materials and weaponry," Ironhide rumbled, sounding pleased. "He is truly a prodigy. If only he possessed armaments such as ours."

"You probably wouldn't like the results," I replied, imagining Gazzy with laser cannons built into his arms. _Oh, God._

"Optimus? What's the Fallen? I heard some of the soldiers thinking about a big battle that happened lately. They were really scared of it. I didn't like the thoughts they had about it. Is a Fallen worse than the Decepticons?" Angel asked, her big blue eyes wide and questioning.

Optimus was silent for a moment. "The Fallen was an ancient member of our race, one of the original Primes," he finally said. "He sought to destroy this planet's sun to create Energon, the source of life for our people. The Primes had a rule: never harvest the sun of a system that contained life. But the Fallen did not heed this rule. War broke out, and he was defeated… temporarily. The civil war continued and has never stopped." Optimus leaned closer. "Recently, his minions, led by Megatron, sought to enslave Earth using the AllSpark, then after that plan failed, sought to reactivate the Star Harvester the Fallen had built. The humans you have met on this base helped us thwart the Fallen's machinations, and I myself put an end to his wasted life."

"Holy…" I couldn't think of a word to put at the end of that phrase. "You mean the fate of the Earth has been in jeopardy all along and the public never knew about it? I mean, you'd think a bunch of gigantic metal aliens smashing each other around would attract some attention!"

"The United States government, along with other governments from around the world, has instigated a cover-up that has worked well so far. According to the cover-up, the events surrounding the battle for the AllSpark were simply a malfunction of equipment manufactured by a 'Massive Dynamics' company. Creating the illusion that we and the Decepticons were merely out-of-control military equipment was enough to satisfy the media. The conflict over the Fallen's scheme, though, has proven less easy to hide. Megatron broadcasted his own face on human televisions and computers and let his Decepticons attack in numerous worldwide locations, attracting the attention of too many humans. Though the media considers the episode to be a prank of massive proportions, there are many who have realized that something much bigger is going on. I predict that very soon we will have to come up with a better plan to keep things under control."

I could understand what the big guy was talking about. Insane maniacal scientists had been kidnapping and experimenting on human kids for _years_, and what did the public know about it? Next to nothing. But Fang's blog, along with a bunch of other random stuff, had spread the word like wildfire. We were just waiting for all the news stations to come beat down our door.

"So now that the Fallen is gone, what will the Decepticons do?" Angel asked.

"Fall back to Plan A, which is 'enslave the human race'," an Autobot I had never seen before said. He nodded at me. "I am Jolt."

"Nice to meet ya, Jolt old boy," I said.

"They may have lost the capability to transform all of Earth's technology into an army, but they still have their greed. That alone is enough to motivate them to overthrow all the governments and create chaos that will enable them to take over," a female voice said. I stared at the speaker, a reddish Autobot. Then she split into three parts—three _different robots_—and all three stood there, looking at me.

"I am Chromia," one said.

"I am Firestar," another said.

"And I'm Moonracer," the last one said.

I raised an eyebrow. Their voices sounded almost identical. Were they triplets?

"Together we form the Autobot Arcee," all three said at once.

"Jolt and Arcee are correct. What Megatron intends to do now is use what resources he has left to reinstigate total warfare. He is recuperating from his extensive injuries somewhere secret. We believe he somehow went back to the Decepticon flagship _Nemesis_ after the Fallen was killed and awakened new soldiers that had been in stasis for millennia. Now he has returned to Earth and is assembling more forces," Optimus explained.

"More forces?" I asked, uncertain.

"Yes. More." Optimus's piercing gaze met mine. "He has relieved Marian Janssen of her airborne mechanical Erasers. Her body was found shortly before midnight. She had been… decapitated. Analysis of her files revealed that she has been in league with the Decepticons ever since you and your allies defeated Itex. The Decepticons got her out of prison, then when she was no longer needed…"

"They got rid of her." I felt goosebumps on my arms. I had once believed she was my mother, thanks to her pack of lies. But she wasn't, so I wasn't upset. Just a little creeped out. _Decapitated? Wow. That's… awful._

"How did you get all this information so fast? It's barely three A.M.!" I wondered.

"We have our ways," Ratchet said slyly. "Our signal analysis capabilities are far superior to those of the greatest supercomputer on Earth."

"So now we have to fight Flyboys again?" Angel asked.

"Not just Flyboys," I realized aloud. "Super-Flyboys. Decepticons wouldn't bother using those pieces of crap unless they modified them, made them more Decepticony."

"Oh." Angel sounded worried. "That's not good."

_Not only is it not good_, the Voice whispered, _It's terrible. Given the Flyboys' simple design, the Decepticons are mass-producing them. Soon they'll have enough to do some major damage to important cities, military bases, research facilities…_

"Yeah." I swallowed hard. "_Really really _not good."

Inwardly I was thinking, _I hope I get to test out that EMP thing soon. I'll let Gazzy and Iggy make it super-powerful. Then we'll all get one and zap the Flyboys out of existence._

_You know it's never that easy_, the Voice chided.

_Yeah, well I can dream, _I sneered back.


	16. Chapter 16 Surprise

After tucking Angel into bed, I didn't hit the sack. Instead I snuck back out of the room, stepping quietly now that I didn't have Miss Mind-Control with me to confuse the guards. I headed down the hall, not knowing where I was going.

_Hey. Voice. We need to talk. Like, now, _I thought.

Minutes passed. No answer.

_Voice, can we talk? Please?_

I stopped walking and concentrated really hard. _Voice, I have some questions, and I would really like to have them answered. Please? Pretty please?_

_ Look behind you_, the Voice warned.

I glanced over my shoulder and saw hands reaching for my head.

I reacted the only way I know how: I whirled, launched a vicious kick toward my assailant, then grabbed a wad of shirt and slammed the poor soul into the wall. I prepared to cave in someone's face, then I saw who I was holding and my eyes widened.

Fang rolled his eyes. "You overreact way too much," he muttered.

I stepped back, letting go of his shirt. I felt like an idiot. "You… ugh! What do you expect me to do when someone comes up from behind?"

"Right. Whatever." Fang smoothed out his shirt. I saw that he was wearing his black "civilian" clothes. With his dark hair and olive skin, he blended in perfectly with the dark. I was about to say something snarky and witty, but then I remembered our disastrous make-out. I couldn't bring myself to even snort.

"Why are you following me?" I asked, not sure I wanted to know.

"It gets old, living in a routine," Fang said in a low voice. He shrugged. "Thought I'd break some rules."

"Me too. Angel couldn't sleep, so we went to talk to the Bots." I then proceeded to tell him about the death of Marian Janssen, the Flyboy dilemma, and the story about that Fallen guy.

Fang listened silently, then cocked his head. "So now the Flyboys work for the Decepticons, and the Decepticons have total access to what's left of Itex and its evil-empire buddies."

"Pretty much, yeah," I sighed.

"Hey…" Fang looked around, then leaned in close. "Why don't we find someplace… I dunno, more open? Like outside? It's a beautiful island, even in the dark."

"Sure." I felt uneasy and queasy, but I wanted to make up for how I'd torn away from his attempt to profess love to me. I hated the concept of me being in love, me having girly drama-queen emotions, but somehow it drew me in. I kind of wanted to know what it felt like. When I had gone on a date with that guy Sam, I had experienced things that made me feel… well, normal. Happy. Fang was like my brother, but… really, was he? We had grown up together, shared a ton of memories, but now we were different. We had changed. We weren't scruffy little kids anymore. We were almost young adults.

We had gone through _puberty_, for gosh sakes. Didn't that qualify us for relationships?

Besides… it could be an adventure. A really mushy-gushy, terrifying adventure.

I, Maximum Ride, can handle any challenge. I can save the world.

So… in theory, I can survive being in love, right?

We lay in the grass, staring up at the stars.

There were no artificial lights above the ground on the island. Everything was peaceful and dark, giving no hint that beneath us was an entire military base full of alien robots. Here there was only the wind, the sky, the dirt, the plants, and the sea.

Oh, and the occasional hidden satellite dish or antenna. But I digress.

Fang was silent. I wondered why he wanted me with him if he wasn't going to even talk to me. Then I figured he might be trying to come up with something to say, so I waited. And waited. And _waited._

Finally, when I was about to scream from anxiety, he opened his mouth.

"I'm sorry about yesterday," he mumbled. If I didn't have raptor hearing, I wouldn't have heard him.

"Me too," I said, biting my lip. "I just… froze up."

Max plus saying personal fuzzy stuff equals disaster, FYI.

"More like _blew up_," Fang snorted.

I rolled my eyes. I felt so awkward. I'm _Maximum Ride._ I beat up big tough evil henchmen and get the crap whipped out of me. I'm dirty and smelly and I look like a homeless hobo. I'm noncurvy and nongirly and a total tomboy.

And yet I still manage to feel all fluttery inside.

"I just… I don't know," I managed.

"Don't know what?" Fang propped up on his elbow.

"How." God, I felt like such an idiot. "I mean, what. I mean, UGH! I _hate_ this, Fang."

"You mean you hate-"

"No, not you. Never you." I felt frustrated and exhausted and worried all at the same time. "It's just… I…" I sat up and sighed. "_This_. Me. Everything. It's impossible for us to…" My voice trailed off, and I realized my eyes were wet.

"You think that because we're meant to save the world, we can't be together. Romantically involved."

"Yes. And no. God, Fang, why is it so hard? Why can't we just be… why can't I just freaking say yes?" I hit the ground with my fist, aggravated.

"Because you're you." Fang was inching closer to me, till we were practically side by side. "Because you can't just surrender. You have to be conquered."

"Conquer me," I whispered. "And if I run away, catch me. Never let me go."

Oh _God. _I wanted to slap both hands over my mouth and fly all the way to the North Pole where no one would ever find me. But another part of me ached to stay and find out what Fang would say.

That evil, girly, soft-and-squishy part of me won.

"And if you fly away, I'll fly after you. Forever." One of Fang's arms slipped around my waist while the other snaked up my back, under my shirt and jacket. Between my wings. His hands were rough but gentle, capable of breaking steel but also capable of caressing. My blood was pumping out of control, my head was spinning, my brain was screaming NOOOOO while my heart was singing YES!

We weren't siblings, we were friends. We were _us_.

It crossed my mind that maybe Fang and I were meant to be together, like he had said earlier. We were the same age, we were both avian-human hybrids, we were the perfect team. We could look after all the others and be a family. We could do _anything_ together.

So when our lips met, it was a cooperative effort. It wasn't just him kissing me or me kissing him. It was _us_. I fell to the ground and he fell with me, and we rolled over so that I was on my back and he was on his knees, still kissing. I could feel my hormones racing wildly as my own arms and legs moved against my will, as did his. His wings extended fully, two black shapes that blocked out the stars. He moved down my neck, still kissing, and I gasped involuntarily. He was so _hot_. Not just looks, but body temperature.

That was when I saw the flash of metal hurtling toward the back of Fang's head.

"MOVE!" I shouted, using my strength to yank Fang sideways. A metal pole speared the dirt a few centimeters from my head. We both sprang up. A soldier stood there, his eyes glowing in the pitch darkness.

Not just glowing. They were glowing _red._

"Oh crap," I blurted.

Then, his whole body erupted into a mass of whirring, slicing mechanical parts, like a Terminator 2.0. Shreds of clothing hung from the skeletal, lethal menace that now stared me in the eye like a demon. I counted at least six different guns, numerous blades, and weapons I didn't recognize.

What a way to have your make-out ruined.


	17. Chapter 17 First Blood

"Maximum Ride," the Decepticon growled. His voice was deep, haughty, and totally evil.

I struggled to clear my mind, pushing aside all my hyperactive romantic thoughts, loading my mental guns to fire both barrels. As soon as I so much as twitched to get away, the monster stepped forward and clenched my throat with one unrelenting metal fist. I swear, I thought my neck snapped, but it was just the sudden jerk of my head as it yanked me forward. When Fang tried to kick it in the head, his foot snapped off the metal and did no damage. This bot wasn't made of any earthly substance. Nothing we could do right now could hurt it.

The pressure on my windpipe was terrible. I started gagging and coughing up blood, which leaked out of the corners of my mouth. Its other arm morphed into a long, chainlike appendage that caught Fang by his throat and twisted sharply, then flung him thirty feet into the air. Fang's wings didn't pop out and lift him up, so I assumed he was unconscious. Or dead. My heart sank and I almost went limp. Almost.

"Mutant scum," the Decepticon snarled at me. His ugly metal face was centimeters from mine, and the glare from his shining eyes was unbearable at such close range. "Your kind are the first to die on this island tonight!"

I heard Fang slam into the ground not far from me. I rolled my eyes wildly, trying to get a glimpse of him out of the corner of my eye. I saw him. He was unnaturally still and lay at an awkward angle, his arms and legs bent strangely. His head was turned too far and his wings were akimbo, motionless.

His eyes were open, unblinking.

I heard sounds and with my night vision saw hordes of winged _things _descending from the sky. They were Flyboys. Freakishly shiny, huge Flyboys with terrible metal plates and pieces. They no longer had lab-grown furry skins. Their eyes were a blazing Decepticon red.

There were at least five hundred of them.

I started getting tunnel vision. Or maybe it was just all the tears gumming up my vision. I tried to get free, but it was useless. The Decepticon was going to strangle me to death, and there was nothing I could do. I tried every street fighting trick I could from my position; it was useless. The Decepticon laughed harshly whenever I managed to land a hit. He was sustaining no damage, not even a dent; I almost felt my bones break every time I hit him.

_Hold on, Max. Help is coming._

A split second later, everything around me seemed to explode.

Suddenly there were lights everywhere. The ground shook. Sirens screamed. My Decepticon cursed in a stream of unintelligible mechanical gibberish and slung me over his shoulder like a rucksack. He took off running faster than anything I'd ever seen run on two legs, even Omega (Omega = pathetic genetically perfect loser dweeb created by Itex to kill me. Guess how that turned out?). I choked and gagged and struggled as we crashed through palm groves, thickets and vine tangles. Was he gonna take me alive? I doubted it. Maybe he just wanted to take his time killing me.

I saw lots of things happening out of the corner of my eyes as the world flashed past me. NEST troops were swarming on the ground, taking up positions and making formations, wielding gigantic missile-launchers and standard military weapons. I saw Flyboys taking hits, but they didn't blow up like I expected. It was like they had energy shields or something.

When the Uber-Flyboys started fighting back, it wasn't pretty. I could practically hear bodies thudding to the ground every few seconds. In between my own gaggy noises and the general deafening noises of battle, of course.

I saw a group of four soldiers stumble into the Decepticon's path. Before they could react, he unlimbered a miniature missile launcher and shot off a series of swift _ploofs. _Those hissy noises were the prelude to a big, blowuppy ball of fire and shrapnel that sent all four men flying back. They didn't get back up.

Okay, as if Fang maybe being _dead _wasn't horrible enough, now I was stuck watching while American soldiers got blown up right before my eyes. I felt tears sting my eyes. I wanted to kill this _thing _that held me so bad, it made my head hurt.

Speaking of which, the Decepticon reformatted his arm to its previous form and made a smirky noise. "Human germs," he spat, jogging past the smoldering bodies.

He suddenly jerked me around and made me face him. My face was inches from his weird, angular, alien metal visage, silvery plates illuminated by the firefight and the glow of his evil red eyes.

"It is a custom on your planet to allow the party being executed to utter 'last words'," he said calmly, his free hand morphing into something that looked like a cross between a pizza cutter and a mace. "I am sure that Lord Megatron would derive pleasure from hearing your pitiful statement, so please, do say something… interesting."

Through the tears that gummed up my vision, which was rapidly going to blackness from lack of oxygen, I saw nothing but that hellfire red. I glared and bared my teeth, hatred boiling in my heart. "Go to hell," I wheezed, then spat. My spittle grazed his face and dripped there, a stringy saliva splatter.

"Most unintelligent," the Decepticon mused, then raised the spiked-pizza cutter-mabob high. Apparently it was intended for my face.

A lot of things flashed before my eyes right then. Me as a kid, still locked in a dog crate at the School. Me and the Flock having fun with Jeb. Mom and Ella. Chocolate-chip cookies. Me kissing Fang. Fang's eyes.

Then… a small metallic projectile?

Something went _plink_ against the 'Con's face and he froze up, then twitched and staggered back. His hand unclenched and I fell in an undignified way, landing flat on my back. I tried to sit up and grabbed at my neck, which was basically raw skin now, and coughed up blood. I scrambled as far away from the monster as I could. Then I saw my rescuer.

_It was Jeb_.

Jeb Batchelder, in a nondescript plain suit and shoes, his hair combed over sloppily… and he was hefting Petr Andronov's wonderful battery-shooting invention.

Our eyes met, and I saw genuine concern in his. But there was no time for reunion, not even for me to make a snide remark. He was all-business. "NOW!" he shouted, just as the Decepticon righted itself and started to convulse less.

What happened next is kind of hard to describe. It was like watching a localized Armageddon in _slooow _motion. A massive ball of liquefied hell slammed into the Decepticon and sent him sprawling. While regular bullets probably wouldn't do more than ping off his armor, this stuff was causing parts and pieces of him to slag off. He scrabbled and threw himself forward, trying to rise, shrieking in an almost supersonic mechanical nonsense language. Then his damage took its toll and he started burning up from the inside. Finally jets of flame shot out of his chest, his head, and his back and he toppled over, his shrieks fading into a static ramble of mush. I saw a tiny blue-white spark dancing in the center of his now peeled-open chest. It snuffed out.

Ironhide plodded forward, observing his handiwork. "One shot, one kill," he grunted, pleased.

"Excellent," Jeb told him, then ran toward me.

I was sitting with my legs drawn up, still massaging my welt-covered neck. Jeb knelt down and looked into my eyes. "Max. Max, can you hear me? Max, tell me if you can't move."

"I'm… fine," I hacked. I spat out more blood. "I'll live."

I wanted to literally scream THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU but something held me back. I still wasn't sure about Jeb. Even though he just saved my feathery butt.

Somehow he got the message and nodded, standing back up. I stood shakily and gazed with him at the ongoing battle.

"I have to go back there and check on Fang. He's…" I almost choked up, then steeled myself. "He's still there."

"You will not be safe. These 'Flyboys' as you call them have been altered and refitted to meet Megatron's desires. They posses force fields equivalent to our own, though on a much smaller scale. They are made of less breakable materials and are sustained by Energon." He shuddered. "A waste of precious lifeblood."

"What works on them? Other than your cannons?" I demanded.

"Sabot rounds," Ironhide said. "Among other heavy-duty ammunition. However, the experimental weapons you were shown are very effective at temporarily disarming-"

"This should do it," a gravelly, familiar voice growled. I turned to see a hulking, vicious-looking, yet oddly welcome shadow standing behind Jeb, some kind of souped-up antitank missile gun on its shoulder. My eyebrows just about went up into my hairline and my jaw almost dislocated itself.

"Hi, Max," Ari said, his eyes meeting mine. "I'm back… again."


	18. Chapter 18 Guess Who's Back?

The world seemed to stop turning on its axis. Everything was still; at least, that's how my frazzled mind perceived it. There was only me and Ari. Me and my half-brother.

Me and the half-brother who I thought was _dead._

I had watched him die, back in Germany, when we were fighting Fake Mom's Flyboys. His expiration date had kicked in, and he just… fell. Fell forward, looking gray and sick and worn out, and died in my arms. I remembered it all too clearly. Jeb had been there, and I had seen his grief, what little of it he allowed to show.

So how could Ari possibly be standing here now, speaking to me?

I had "killed" him once, in a subway tunnel in New York. He had hit his head and his neck broke. The School brought him back by fusing his neck back together. He had come back once.

This was unbelievable. Coming back _twice_ was impossible.

"No, it's not a clone," Jeb said softly, as if reading my thoughts. "It's Ari, Max. Your brother."

I just stood there, agog. Then I snapped out of it and shook my head. "How…"

"We'll talk about that later," Jeb interrupted. He gestured at me. "You need to get to Fang. Both of you should get going."

I glanced at Ari. He looked… better. Before he died, he had been a total wreck. Something had gone very wrong with his Eraser morph ability and had left him looking like a wolfy, messed-up monster with patched-on wings. Now he looked less like a genetic screwup and more like… well, I really didn't know _what _he looked like, but he looked okay. Somehow his skin looked less stretched and leathery, and his "normal" face looked less snout-ish. His hair had more light brown in it than gray now.

"I'll tell you everything once this is over. Now GO!" Jeb urged. He reloaded his battery gun and fixed me with a Look. Oh my. That was one of _my _Looks. Guess that proves we share some genetic material.

It does not, however, prove anything else.

"This way!" I shouted, then took off.

I shot past Uber-Flyboys and evaded various forms of flak, banking and swooping. Ari followed, his movements clumsier than mine, but he managed to keep up. I was happy he wasn't dead, confused as to _how exactly _he wasn't dead, and terrified about Fang. While I was soaring, I saw the Autobots taking out Flyboys with the same precise tenacity that humans use to take out annoying bugs.

If Megatard thought these jokers had a chance against the Autobots, he was more of a dipstick than I originally thought he was. I mean, these Flyboys were lethal against normal humans, but against the Bots? Pshaw.

A Flyboy slammed into Ari, and they hurtled through the air, fighting for the upper hand. Ari used his missile launcher to deck the robot in its head, then took point-blank aim between its glowing red eyes. _BWOOSH. _A headless Flyboy spiraled to the ground, black smoke and sparks trailing from its gaping neck. Strange colored fluid squirted out.

"I like this," Ari remarked, clutching his missile launcher.

I saw a grove of trees I recognized and sped downward, extending my wings to catch the breeze and slow me down at the last minute. I skidded to a halt and ran forward, tucking my wings in as I sprinted. My throat ached and my sides were burning, but I was concerned about more important matters. Namely, Fang.

Speaking of which, some medics had gotten to him first. They had him on his back, legs elevated, an oxygen mask on his face. I saw one of his arms move; he was alive. They were preparing to evac him off the field of battle. I got there before they could move him an inch.

"Fang!" I shouted, rushing to his side. The medics scowled, then I fluffed my wings to show them I was allowed here.

Fang's eyes fluttered open. He saw me and raised one hand.

"We need to get him out of here, now," one of the medics urged, trying to lead me away. I yanked away from him and turned back to Fang. His eyes were unfocused, but he was trying to look at my face. They were wrangling a neckbrace onto him.

I watched as Fang was spirited away, back down into the subterranean world of NEST. I blinked and realized that I was crying. I sniffled, wiped my tears with a sleeve, and straightened my back. I do not blubber and wail like a widdle baby. I open cans of buttwoop when I am upset.

"Max."

I turned to see Ari beside me. He had stolen up to me like a ghost. His missile launcher was strapped over one arm. I looked into his face and saw those kid-Ari eyes I had grown to miss. Even though Fang was severely injured and the base was under attack, I felt some small joy in my heart. _My brother is alive._

The battle was over by dawn. All the Flyboys were terminated; Ratchet and Ironhide replayed security video feed of the descending cloud of robots when they had first arrived, then did a meticulous body count. All unfriendlies were accounted for, including the Decepticon who had grabbed me and tried to kill Fang.

His horribly mangled, melted body lay on a long table like a corpse in a morgue. Ratchet was running some tests. Lennox and Epps, who were covered in cuts, bruises and soot, kept their eyes pasted on the dead 'Con and their trigger fingers at the ready, like it could get up and start shooting any moment.

I stood in the hangar, a spot of stillness in all the post-battle confusion, and listened to Ari as he explained how he had come back from death's door a second time. Jeb hovered nearby, a silent shadow.

"I just… woke up." Ari admitted, his eyes following the Autobots as they moved around and cleaned their weapons. I knew the seven-year-old inside him was _dying _to fall down and worship the Transformers. I could see it in his eyes. "I woke up in a hospital, in a room full of other dead people. Only I wasn't dead. It was like I just blacked out for a little while and then I got back up. Everyone was surprised. _I _sure thought I was dead."

"When the School altered you, they gave you standard Eraser formatting, expiration date included. Unfortunately, your genetic structure was already developing on its own, and grafting the wolf DNA into you didn't make you a true Eraser. That's what saved your life," Jeb said, walking toward us. We both eyed him warily. I could almost believe what he was saying. Ari _was _different than his erstwhile Eraser comrades; instead of having a human form and a wolf form, his morph ability had merged both, so of late he was stuck in a constant semi-human, semi-wolf state.

"You see, when your time came, the shutdown kicked in and you collapsed. Your brain did not respond correctly to the signal, however. Instead of shutting down completely, you just went comatose. I thought you were dead." Jeb looked away. "You didn't have a pulse, nothing. But that's happened before to perfectly normal people. Sometimes the vital signs are so low they seem to have disappeared altogether."

"So Ari never really…" I started, getting goose bumps.

Jeb shook his head. "No, Max. We were wrong. He's much tougher than I ever imagined." He locked eyes with Ari. This was a Kodak moment for sure. Ari's father was proud of him.

"We're giving him treatments that should start to slightly reverse the recombinant effects on his body," Jeb said, now addressing me. "As you can see, the… damage… is beginning to recede. Perhaps soon we can fix the perpetually-morphed problem."

Ari coughed. "I don't mind it anymore," he said, then looked at me. "If the medicine works, I won't be a real boy, but at least I'll feel better."

"What about the wings?" I asked.

Jeb opened his mouth, but Ari cut him off. "I like them!" he snapped. "I want to be like Max."

I got kind of a tight, wishy-washy feeling in the pit of my chest. Maybe it was just nausea left over from almost being strangled to death. I dunno.

"I thought they hurt," Jeb said cautiously.

"Not much." Ari replied. He involuntarily shifted his wings. His dark feathers were much longer than mine, and a little shaggier even when extended.

"MAX!"

I heard the patter of little feet, then saw four blurs streaking toward me. Nudge, Angel, Iggy and Gazzy. Total hung back, eyes glued on Ari. When the four kids saw him, they skidded to a halt and stared, mouths agape. Well, Iggy didn't stare. He just kind of stopped running, scowled and said "Why are we stopping?" in an annoyed voice.

While Nudge and Gazzy did the whole fish-gasping thing, Angel trotted forward, her blue eyes wide and questioning. She walked right up to Ari, peered up into his face, and cocked her head.

Then she _hugged _him.

"You're back," was all she said. Then she stepped back and surveyed him again. "I'm glad."

"Who's back?" Iggy demanded.

"Ari," Angel said casually. "It's okay, guys. His expiration date didn't work like it was supposed to. He's okay."

How she managed to glean info from our minds without us even knowing was beyond me.

I, for one, was surprised at Angel. She never hugged anyone who was non-Flock, ever. Unless it was someone "special". Of course, in reality she was only a year younger than Ari was. Maybe she had read his mind and absorbed all his messed-up, little-boy-lost feelings, and now she understood. Or maybe our short time together as a miniflock had erased her doubts and fears about him. Anyway. It was just a little surprising.

"Where's Fang?" Gazzy blurted.

"Fang got hurt. Bad," I said, my own words causing me to feel sick. My stomach twisted into a pretzel knot. "I think he'll be okay, though. He's still here, somewhere in the base getting medical care."

"Oh my God!" Nudge gasped, a hand rising to her mouth. "I knew there was a bad attack, but I didn't know you and Fang were out there!"

"We, uh, snuck out. Doing some snooping. Recon." I fumbled lamely for any logical answer other than "We were making out under the stars, then a Decepticon attacked us!"

Angel arched an eyebrow at me. I tensed my jaw and sent her thoughts that summed up what I would do to her if she revealed what me and Fang had been doing.

She giggled. Apparently she didn't believe me.


	19. Chapter 19 Aftermath

I stared down at Fang, watching as his chest slowly rose and fell. An oxygen mask covered most of his face and his eyes were shut. His wounds were starting to heal on their own; some of the ragged scabs were already turning into scars. The neckbrace made him look like a half-_ostrich _bird kid. At least, that's what Gazzy said.

A normal human would have had their spine snapped, but Fang merely had some major bruising and stiffness. Still, the doctors insisted that he wear the neckbrace until his upper spine fully healed, to avoid any unpleasant consequences. Now Fang was knocked out on pain medication, and the Flock was in his room to keep watch while he got his R&R.

"So like, what now? The Decepticons know we're here. Where else is there to run to?" Nudge asked, for the tenth time.

"I don't know, but I'm sure we'll find out," I replied through gritted teeth, for the tenth time.

"I hope it's someplace _nice _for a change. Palm Beach. San Diego. Shangri-la," Total groused, scratching an itch behind one ear.

"Probably some godforsaken wasteland where no one but a complete and total nutcase would want to live," Iggy said. "Like, the North Pole. Or the dark side of the moon."

"We wouldn't need wings to fly on the moon! There's like, no gravity!" Gazzy said gleefully.

I gave him a look. "There's like, no oxygen either. And I doubt it'll be some godforsaken wasteland."

"They're not sending us away. At least, not to anywhere bad," Angel piped up, holding Celeste with both slim arms. Her eyes met mine. "They're bringing someone here who can help us. Someone who can teach us about the aliens and keep us hidden."

I cocked an eyebrow. "Oh really?" I recalled Anne Walker, the FBI agent who was actually a School nut job. She had promised to keep us "hidden" and had really boxed us into a trap. I wasn't about to make the same mistake twice.

"Someone who's fought the aliens like Lennox and Epps. Don't worry, Max. We'll be okay," Angel said, smiling slightly.

A couple hours later, I headed for the workout room to get my mind off Fang and the fact that we were all in danger and that the world could end at any moment.

I saw the cases full of Kaminari and Petr's inventions and went over to investigate. I picked up one of the EMP sticks and swished it around like a sword. It felt light and easy to handle, not clumsy like a crowbar or a piece of pipe.

"Max?"

I turned to see Ari standing in the doorway.

"I have to leave soon. I don't want to," he said, looking down at the floor. "But I guess I can't stay with you and the Flock, huh."

I remembered how much Fang hated Ari, how he had split up the Flock on one occasion just because I accepted Ari temporarily. I knew that the others weren't comfortable around him. But then again, the fact that he had protected me till the near-end might have changed their opinions about him, if only a little. I wasn't sure.

"You can if you want to," I offered cautiously.

"Jeb says I have a mission," Ari muttered. Then he perked up and met my gaze. "He says it's real important. And he even said he'll take me wherever I want to go for my birthday. That's in April. I'll be eight." He said smugly, puffing out his chest slightly.

Eight years old. Sometimes I forgot that Ari was just a little kid in a huge body. Gazzy was eight, soon to be nine. Deep down, they weren't much different.

"I'll try to find you a present, then," I said, half-smiling.

Ari walked closer to me, checking out the cases of weapons. "I got to meet your mom. She's nice. She gave me cookies," he said. "I wish my mom was still alive."

I bit my lip. "I know."

Then I smiled and stepped closer to Ari. "Y'know what? When your birthday gets here, we'll have our own party at my mom's place. We'll have all the chocolate-chip cookies we can eat and do whatever we want. I'll steal Jeb's credit card and we'll attack every mall within fifty miles. Sound good?"

"Sounds great." Ari tried to smile, but his eyes were sad. "I still don't wanna leave you, though. Never ever. You're my sister. I want us to be… a…"

"A family." I felt my throat tighten. _Thou shalt not cry, Max. Thou art tough. _I reminded myself. I felt bad for him. I knew he envied me and the Flock, the way we took care of each other and acted like a family. The fact that me and Ari shared one-half of our DNA made things worse.

"Yeah," Ari said morosely. "It sucks."

I stood on tiptoes and hugged my brother, inwardly thanking all the powers above that he had recently showered. His heavily muscled, powerful arms clumsily hugged me back. It broke my heart that he was stuck like this, a mutant monster with fangs and claws and a love-starved little-boy heart.

Before, I hadn't really felt this way about Ari. While we were in Germany, I had felt something like this, but the fact that all of us were on death roll kind of distracted me. Now it was like someone had just opened the floodgates, and Noah only had half an ark.

We broke the hug and both sighed. "I better go. Jeb's probably waiting for me. We're gonna leave later today," Ari said, turning toward the door.

I watched him leave, mixed emotions swirling inside of me. Then I marched up to a hefty punching bag, clenched both fists, and WHAM! I struck. Again, and again, and again. I felt a wayward tear roll down my cheek.

It felt good to let off some steam.

I made my way back to Fang's bedside, my tank top soaked with sweat, my adrenaline up from my workout. I plopped down in a chair and exhaled, closing my eyes. The sound of Fang's heartbeat on the monitor and the whispers from his respirator made me feel super-sleepy.

"Hey."

I bolted awake, then saw Fang looking at me. His eyes were kind of glazed, unfocused. I stood up and went over to him. "About time you woke up, Sleeping Beauty," I remarked.

"Beauty sleep," Fang mumbled, grinning slightly. "Right."

I took the next half-hour to explain some things to him: how Ari was back from the dead (again), how we were now about to be on the run (again), and how I was glad that Fang wasn't dead (again).

Fang listened, his expression calm. I glanced at one of the IV bags. Morphine, yep. I'd probably have to explain everything all over again later on.

"Glad you're okay," Fang slurred. He tried to reach up toward my face, but failed.

I remembered how my mom had dosed me with Valium when she surgically removed the chip in my arm. While I was high as a kite, I had said a bunch of mushy, "I _looooove _you" stuff to Fang. I wondered if now Fang would say some of that stuff to me. I secretly wanted him to.

Instead he just zonked out again, drifting into la-la land while his breathing slowed into small snores.

"Yeah. Sure. Whatever, Romeo," I muttered, sitting back down.


	20. Chapter 20 Farewells

That afternoon, I said goodbye to Ari and Jeb.

They were headed for a large, sleek helicopter when I ran after them. Ari heard me coming and turned to meet me. Jeb glanced my way, then faced me.

"So what now? You're just leaving us here to fend for our little selves? How thoughtful of you," I shouted above the _thwup-thwup-thwup_ of the helicopter's blades.

"It's all part of the plan, Max," Jeb shouted back. He scowled. "I know you're in the best hands available. Besides, I'm needed elsewhere. Ari and I have… business to attend to."

I glanced at Ari, who shrugged. He had no clue what Jeb had in mind for him.

"Well, bye then," I said, disappointed. I had hoped to get a clue as to what dear old Dad had in mind. No luck.

Jeb nodded, then boarded the helicopter. Ari took a step, hesitated, then fished something out of his jacket pocket. "Here. I won't be needing this. You can have it," he said, shoving it at me. I scrutinized his gift. It was a red GameBoy.

_Max, that is probably the dearest thing he owns. Accept it. He wouldn't give it to just anyone, _said the Voice.

_I know_, I thought. _And Jeb, if you have something to say, just say it out loud, not in my head._

"Uh, thanks." I took the device, feeling awkward. "Um…" I didn't know what to say. Part of me wanted to scream _Screw world-saving _and go live permanently with Mom and Ella, and maybe I could convince her to let Ari stay with us, and Jeb could come visit on weekends. Or maybe one weekend a month. Anyhoo, since I am Maximum Ride, I can't do stuff like that. What I wanted more than anything right then was for me and Ari to be part of a real live family, together.

So instead of coming up with some lame parting words for him, I gingerly stood on tiptoes and—_GASP_—pecked Ari on the cheek, a token of previously-unknown big-sisterly affection.

Ari turned several shades of red. I wondered if anyone had ever kissed him in his _life_. Most likely not.

"Bye, Max," Ari mumbled, then boarded the chopper.

I watched as the helicopter rose high into the air, then started to get smaller and smaller as it flew away to parts unknown. A lump was in my throat. I held the GameBoy with both hands, as if it was somehow a piece of Ari.

Oh, man. If this keeps up, next thing you know, I'll be bawling my eyes out every time I so much as squish a bug. I need to work on this whole emotion thing.

_Max, I'm not Jeb, _the Voice said, interrupting my thoughts. _He can imitate me, but he isn't me. You'll know who I am soon, though._

I felt like screaming bloody murder right then.

Ari crouched in the chopper, his huge form barely fitting where he was seated. Beside him, Jeb stared off into space, his expression unreadable.

"Why did you give Max that GameBoy?" Jeb finally asked.

"'Cos I wanted her to have it," Ari replied, his throat tight. He leaned back, grateful that his wings didn't hurt him anymore. His whole body felt weird, in a good way. His skin didn't feel so tight and stretched, his face didn't feel so… well, it was an improvement. Jeb had arranged for him to undergo more "reconstructive" procedures soon, after he had completed his mission. Whatever that was. And strangely enough, Ari no longer got orders from his Voice. It was like his Voice had just gone away. He didn't miss it.

"I know you're upset that you don't get to stay with Max," Jeb said, catching Ari off-guard. "But you'll have plenty of time to be with each other once everything is set to rights."

Ari thought about Max's plan to swipe Jeb's credit card and buy big bunches of stuff from huge stores. He was already making a mental checklist: Bionicles, video games, movies, a cool motorcycle, and lots of candy. He barely suppressed a wicked grin. He wouldn't mind stealing Jeb's credit card. Jeb owed him big, in Ari's reckoning.

"Plenty of time." Ari closed his eyes and listened to the steady thrumming of the helicopter blades. "Yeah."

In his mind's eye, he could just see it. It made him very, very happy, much happier than he'd been in a long time.

I rolled over in my bed, staring at the wall. It was pitch dark, but I couldn't sleep. I could hear Nudge and Angel snoring softly. Every once in a while I would drift off, then snap awake as if yanked. My sleep patterns are totally screwed up.

I finally climbed out of bed, fed up with attempting to sleep. I silently unlocked then opened the door and padded into the hall. My bare feet didn't mind the cold floor. I had a destination in mind.

After what seemed like forever and miles of walking, I reached Fang's room. I slipped inside and saw him lying there, still unconscious. His monitors bleeped and glowed reassuringly. I walked over to his bedside and stared down at his handsome, dark, chiseled face. I brushed some of his long black hair away from his eyes and let the back of my hand linger on his forehead. He felt warm.

His bed wasn't big, but I'm super-skinny, and so is Fang, so fitting both of us in there was no problem. I just climbed up and inserted myself under the sheet, curling up next to Fang, letting my head rest on his shoulder. He was dead asleep, unaware that I had invaded his bed. I remained very still and felt my heart rate slow, and my eyelids get heavier. I was actually getting sleepy. Maybe just being near Fang made me feel safe.

Five minutes later, I was in dreamland. I won't go into what I dreamed about, but let me assure you, it was_ wonderful_. And for once, it didn't involve Erasers or cliffs or me dying.


	21. Chapter 21 Megatron's Plan

Megatron paced, fuming. The assault on the NEST base had gone all wrong. He couldn't risk sending his Decepticon reserves to attack, so he had sent his "improved" Flyboys… and they had all been decimated to scrap metal. Along with their Pretender commander.

He would not attack the base again. He would wait until the mutants were elsewhere, away from the Autobots. They would be vulnerable and he would have nothing to lose. His spies had informed him that soon the Flock would be leaving Diego Garcia. Details were moot at this point, but he would find them out soon enough. Until then, all he could do was wait. Wait, and keep building up new units. He was already making more improvements for the Flyboys that would rectify their various weaknesses. They were complicated enough for him to use, and stupid enough to follow any order… even if it was a suicide order.

His own secret lair was beneath the ocean floor, somewhere in the Bering Strait. What looked like a skeletal factory had been established along one wall; mass-production of Flyboys was under way. Technological pieces scavenged from the _Nemesis_ sprawled there as well, providing him with access to various communications and infiltration ware that humans knew nothing of. Such machinery was beyond their comprehension and probably would not be developed in their cultures for the next thousand years.

_Though they will not live to see that day_, Megatron thought, relishing the impending doom of humanity.


	22. Chapter 22 Pinheads vs Secret Agents

_Max, the time has come. Get up and get moving._

I woke up with a start, irritated with the Voice. "Gah, you're like the alarm clock from Hades," I muttered. Then I saw Fang's face. His eyes were wide open and stared into mine, and he blinked twice.

"Oh…uh…hi," I managed lamely, trying not to think about how one of my legs was thrown over both of his.

"You know, you suck as a bedwarmer. You're like a feathered ice cube," Fang said.

So much for a romantic, touchy-feely start to the conversation, but oh well.

I scowled and huffed. "Fine then, find someone else to do your warming." I carefully extricated myself from the thin sheet and shook my head, detangling my hair. "I thought I'd be close in case, well, in case something… happened."

"That was about as close as you could get, I'd say," Fang snorted. He shifted and made himself sit up higher. His color had improved and he seemed more alert, more focused. His ugly bruises were fading fast.

"The Voice says I gotta go. Somewhere," I said, yawning. "You look a heck of a lot better, so I won't feel guilty leaving you all by yourself."

"Yeah, I'm a big boy. Besides, I know you _loooooove _me," Fang snickered.

If he wasn't recovering from a brush with death, I would have slapped him upside the head right there.

"Whatever." I climbed out of the bed and yawned again, popping some stiff joints. I looked down at myself. I had gone to bed in a gray T-shirt and some sweat pants, so I felt decent, even with bare feet and a major case of bed-head.

_Go to the Autobots' hangar._

I scowled, then sighed. "See ya," I said, walking out the door. I heard Fang plop back against his pillow.

Ten minutes later, I arrived in Ye Olde Hangar. I was surprised. Instead of the usual gigantic alien robots taking up all the space, there were lots of men in suits. Some had on distinguished uniforms, and I recognized a couple generals from when I first came to the NEST base. I saw the silver-haired tough-cookie old lady standing off to one side, watching the higher-ups like a hawk about to swoop in and kill some helpless rabbits.

Her eyes met mine, and instinctively I knew something was up: trouble.

There was a lot of verbal warfare going on, and it puttered to a murmur when I walked in. A bunch of new arrivals ogled me like I was the Holy Grail or something.

So, to be courteous, I put on my meanest, toughest glare, crossed my arms, and spat "What?" in my no-nonsense tone I have.

"You must be Maximum Ride," One of the suits said, walking up to me with a jerky, confidant stride. He held out one hand and looked me in the eye, and I knew at once that I didn't much like him.

"Yeah, I must be, 'cause I think my clone died or something. Your point?" I queried, glancing at his hand like it was some poisonous creature I didn't want to handle.

"Clone?" Another suit murmured. One of them scribbled something in a Steno pad.

"I am Director Galloway," my opponent said, smiling falsely. He gestured at me. "Your new boss."

"Uh, what?" _SCREECH! _The train has stopped, the buck stops here, something something. "Hate to break it to ya, Mister Delusional-Politiciany-Person-Sir, but _nobody_ is my boss. And that's not about to change."

"And what makes you think you're at liberty to choose whether or not I will handle you and your 'Flock', Miss Ride?" Galloway sneered, leaning into my face. Ooh boy. This guy has some issues!

"Uh… the fact that mostly everyone who's ever tried to 'handle' us before has ended up mutilated, dead or something in-between?" I offered innocently.

"Max." I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned to see Lennox standing there, wide-eyed.

He turned to Galloway. "You have no right to impose yourself on this girl, sir. No decision has yet been made regarding the Flock-"

"Oh, a decision has been made, Major. _My _decision. You and your alien flunkies are obviously incapable of protecting the mutants, so it is my responsibility to relocate them to a safe and secure environment. I have full permission to do as I please." Galloway faced Lennox with an oily smile. Lennox scowled. Galloway cleared his throat. I could practically smell the testosterone boiling.

"Director, this situation is far more serious than you would like to admit. Did the incident at the pyramid teach you nothing?" the keen-eyed, lithe old woman demanded. She went to Lennox's side and faced Galloway like a coiled cobra. "Your policies are useless in the face of a threat that requires extraordinary measures to neutralize. Diplomatic hodgepodge won't keep the children safe. You know that as well as I do."

"Ariella, your concern is… admirable. But the Flock belongs to the United States government now. It's high time they started serving their country in practical ways instead of flying around wreaking havoc among civilized people. There is so much we could learn by studying them…" Galloway rubbed his hands together. I felt an overwhelming urge to kick him in the crotch.

Ariella's eyes flashed, but she said nothing, only gave him a look that could've curdled milk into cheese right there.

"Sir, I'm just asking you to consider what Max and her friends might want to do. We brought them to this island because we had no choice; the Decepticons would have hunted them down and killed them off if Jeb Batchelder hadn't called us in to help. We have not forced them to do anything against their will; no tests, no scientific observations, no experiments. They're people, sir. Not animals. Just… kids," Lennox said, and I knew he was sticking his neck out.

Galloway's nostrils flared. "Careful, Major, or I might have to bring up that little 'practical joke' you pulled over the Middle East," he said in a growl. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Epps, who had been silently watching the confrontation, snicker.

"Look bub, enough with the rank and politics yadda-yadda. One, I am not your loyal little subject. Two, I will not do a thing you say. Three, what idiot walks right up to me and announces they wanna 'handle' me and expects to walk away without three broken limbs?" I snapped.

Some of the men around us gasped. Lennox looked stoic, but pleased. Epps was trying not to snort. One of the veins on Galloway's temples bulged.

"Now see here, I—" Galloway began.

"You what?" an unfamiliar voice snorted.

The crowd parted like the Red Sea and another man in a suit strode toward me. This one wore cool sunshades, had dark hair with slight graying in it, and moved with a jaunty, confidant stride. He was trailed by a trio of secret-agent dudes who wore earpieces and carried briefcases.

Lennox raised an eyebrow. So did Epps. They exchanged wary glances.

"Seymour Simmons." Galloway smirked. "What brings you to Diego Garcia?"

"You and your B.S., _Director_," the man, Simmons, sneered. He had a fast, matter-of-fact Brooklyn swing to his words. "And by the way, that's _Agent _Simmons to you. Respect it." He pointed at Galloway to emphasize.

He turned his head toward me, then took off his sunglasses and did a once-over. "Maximum Ride. Age fourteen years and seven months, two weeks and three days. Height, five feet and eight inches. Weight, ninety-seven pounds. Wingspan, approximately fourteen feet. Offspring of Jeb Batchelder and Valencia Martinez." He inclined his head at me. "Pleased to meet you."

I didn't let my surprise show. Seems everyone but me knows everything about me these days. "Sure, whatever. Let me guess: you're here to try and control me too? Gasp!" I made a mock expression of surprise.

"Not control. Liberate." Simmons glanced at Galloway. "Your dad called me in to get you away from these political pinheads before they started taping electrodes to your head. Looks like I got here in time."

So Jeb was saving my butt, again. Yippee.

"Tell me, _Agent _Simmons, who authorized you to come here and tell me what I have the right to do? I work for the President," Galloway growled.

"And I work for who I work for, mister. You got a problem with me? Talk to my employer." He got in Galloway's face and shoved a piece of paper at him. Galloway read the paper, cleared his throat, then handed it back to Simmons, who wore a smirk.

"Fine. Have it your way. But you'll be sorry," Galloway spat, then turned and walked away quickly. His gaggle of acolytes followed him while Lennox, Epps and the other NEST personnel stared. Some kind of big decision had just come into play, and it was about me and my flock.

"Don't let Optimus Prime step on you on the way out, sunshine," Simmons muttered after Galloway, taking off his shades with a very smug, satisfied grin.

Now that Galloway and friends were out of earshot, I could get down to business.

"So what the heck is going on _now_?" I demanded, rounding on Simmons.


	23. Chapter 23 Agent Simmons

We were all seated at a big circular table in a big, dimly-lit room. Fang was actually up and about, still pale and gaunt, but recovering nicely. Gazzy, Iggy, Nudge, Angel and Total were all sitting around me. I was sitting directly across from Simmons, who was setting up a projector and his laptop. They sure can stuff a lot of tech in those little briefcases, can't they?

Lennox, Epps, Ariella, Kaminari and Petr were there too, standing behind us. I got the general idea that Simmons had some history with Lennox and Epps, but I didn't know exactly what. They just kept muttering stuff and occasionally snickering.

Fang and I exchanged glances. We were on full alert, ready to take out this guy if he was a baddie.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we are in the middle of a whole lotta trouble. Let's start with the obvious. An alien civil war has come to our planet and now the bad guys want to take out the bird kids, and we can't let that happen. That's a given. But there are other problems." Simmons clasped his fingers and looked at me shrewdly. "As usual, the politicians can't keep their grubby little fingers out of our business, so the situation gets harder to rectify. There's paperwork. Legal issues. Power plays. Fortunately, there's a simple way to easily solve our current conundrum."

"In other words, the politicians think we should let them decide what we do?" I asked.

"Yeah. You know the routine. In exchange for 'protection', which is total crap, they get to learn all kinds of amazing stuff by testing you. Making you fly through wind tunnels. Making you run on treadmills. Stuff like the School did, just not half as psychotic in nature." Simmons cracked a smile. "I highly doubt you wanna do that, correct?"

"Yeah." I got a twisty, nasty feeling in my stomach when he said all that stuff. It had happened, once. The first ten years of my life had been tests, tests and more tests… injections, observations, experiments. Utter hell.

"Good," Simmons said cheerily. "Then there's a solution. The bigwigs can't take what they can't find. So you guys are gonna have to disappear."

I scowled. "Whoa. Wait a second. Disappear as in vanish? Go poof? Hide? Or is vanish like _retire_? As in, be dead?"

Iggy tensed, and so did the others.

"Disappear as in disappear. Think of it. Technically, you are not allowed to leave this base unless you are taken by government officials. But what if you were just gone? Poof, no bird kids!" He gave me a look. "Don't lie to me and tell me you've never snuck out before."

"You mean, like, run away?" Nudge asked.

"Exactly. Only not by yourselves," Simmons said. "With someone who has experience in these matters."

"Meaning you? Ri-ight." I snorted. "Uh, thanks but no thanks. We've got enough _experience_."

"But I have plans. Locations. Ideas. You leave on your own, you'll be Decepticon chow. You leave with me, you survive. I'm a freakin' secret agent, 'kay? This is my _life_. My grandfather Felix Simmons _invented_ top-secret, so to speak. You wanna save the world? You're talkin' to the guy who helped save it more times than I can count on all my extremities. Besides, me and Mr. Batchelder, we have an understanding. You are my responsibility. I let somethin' bad happen to you, bad things happen to me."

_Like what? Ari rips off your head? _"I still don't trust you."

"A credit to you." Simmons smirked again. "But look at your options. They're a bit limited at the moment."

I mulled over this briefly. If we struck out on our own, no outside help, we were toast. If we did what the government higher-ups wanted, we'd most likely end up miserable. If we stayed here, the Decepticons would just attack us again. If we went with this slightly-odd agent fellow, we had a slim chance of making it okay,

_Hey, Voice, have any wonderful fortune-cookie advice for me right about now? _ I thought, wondering if the Voice would tell me whether or not to go.

No fortune-cookie advice was forthcoming, so I assumed this was a decision I was supposed to make on my own.

Crap.

"Let me think about it. Just for a little bit. I'll have an answer for you tomorrow," I said, feeling conflicted. Fang reached for my hand under the table and gave it a small squeeze.

"Sure. But we can't wait any longer than that. Time isn't just money, it's survival right now. I'll be waiting," Simmons said, standing. He gestured at his briefcase. "In the meantime, I'd like you to observe footage of the Autobots and Decepticons in action. It might help jog your decision."

"Cool, it's like a movie," Gazzy whispered as the lights went off and the projector put the footage on the wall.

"Yeah, a terrifying, ominous, alien-robot smackdown movie," Iggy muttered. "I can't see any of it, people!"

"I'll tell you everything once it's over," Gazzy assured him.

We were subjected to about an hour of video. Some of it was from amateurs who had posted their findings on YouTube. Some of it was top-secret stuff, like a probe on Mars getting footage of a giant robot's shadow. I saw everything from a Decepticon roller-skating down a major highway to a giant thing with two huge wheels wrecking Shanghai. I saw Optimus Prime and a silver-colored Decepticon bigger than him in a death struggle in the middle of a huge city, then some teenaged boy lifted up a cube thing and it got sucked into the Decepticon's chest. I expected the Decepticon to get more powerful or something, but he just convulsed and keeled over. Wow.

Then I saw a military shot of a scorpion-like thing destroying an Arab village. The next reel was of a gigantic-freaking-enormous monster literally ripping the bricks off a pyramid. Then the scene changed, and I saw Optimus again. _He was flying_. He slammed into a dark, larger Decepticon who was standing on top of the now-remodeled pyramid. I squinted and studied the strange metal structure inside the pyramid. It had definitely been planned for something bad. That sequence ended, then there was a newscast. Somehow the Decepticon that had _died _earlier was broadcasting on CNN, demanding that the same boy from earlier be handed over to the Decepticons. Then when that stopped, there were pictures. That boy, a skinny girl with dark hair, a boy with black hair, and Simmons, albeit dirty and exhausted.

"This footage is out of order, but it all pertains to the same thing. The war. Their war, now ours," Simmons said, his eyes never leaving the movie. "After we stopped the 'Cons from blowing up our sun, I was reinstated as an agent. Not for Sector Seven, but for NEST's operatives back home. Feels good to be back."

"What's Sector Seven? I've never heard of it," Nudge asked.

"Never will," Simmons replied, not looking at her.

Nudge cocked an eyebrow at me, and I shrugged.

They showed that silvery one again, and Lennox leaned toward my ear. "That's Megatron," he whispered.

I stared at the image and felt my blood freeze. So this was the evil freak that wanted me and my Flock dead. His eyes were a piercing laser red. He was even uglier than Starscream. Speak of the devil, the next shot was of the F-22 impersonator. He was sleek, fast, and totally evil. He looked even uglier from far away than he did up close.

The movie ended, and the lights came back on. Gazzy was staring slack-jawed at the place where the projection had been. _"Cooooooool," _he breathed, awed.

"That was scary. I hope the Decepticons all blow up and die," Angel declared, hugging Total, who had his face buried under Celeste.

"That's the outlook to have," Simmons said, packing up his laptop.

"Well, come on guys. Let's go. We need to have a Flock meeting," I said, standing up. Fang stood stiffly. We filed out in a neat line. See, we can be proper _and _awesome at the same time!


	24. Chapter 24 My Guru Is Optimus Prime

Here's a random list of names I made up to use when referring to Megatron, arch-enemy of Earth:

Megaturd

Megatard

Megafreak

Megadork

Megadouchebag

Megastupid

Megadolt…

And you get the general idea.

An impromptu Flock Meeting was in order, with me presiding. We were all crammed into the boys' room. Nudge was stretched out on Gazzy's unmade bed, Fang was standing against the wall, Gazzy and Iggy were sprawled across Fang's bed, and I sat Indian-style on Iggy's bed with Angel beside me. Total lay in her lap, bored.

"So what does everyone think about Senor Simmons' great and marvelous plan?" I asked, clasping my hands together.

"I think it sucks," Iggy said. "Then again, I think pretty much every plan we've heard so far sucks."

"I'm with him," Fang said. His face was still paler than usual, but he was standing up and moved with his usual Fangly grace.

"I don't know. I mean, it kind of makes sense. If we stay here we're doomed, if we strike out on our own we're doomed, and if we let Galloway take us, we're doomed!" Nudge complained.

"Let's sing the doom song!" Gazzy declared. _"Doom doom doom doom DOOM, doom doom doom DOOM, doom doom-"_

"Enough with Invader Zim already! Gah!" I almost face-palmed. Gazzy did a perfect voice imitation of the character on that show that sings that song. If I hadn't known it was Gaz doing it, I would have been looking around for the hidden TV. "This is serious. We've got an evil alien robotic race trying to assassinate us, and let's not forget the Itex remnants still swirling around in the mix. We don't know who or what we can trust."

"We should ask the Autobots," Angel piped up, cuddling Celeste. "They're really wise, and they know all about Agent Simmons. They could give us advice."

"Where are the Autobots, anyway? If they weren't in their hangar, where could they be?" Nudge wondered.

"I know where they are," Angel said matter-of-factly. "Come on! I'll show you."

A long line of vehicles waited a few hundred meters away from Galloway's helicopter.

"Please?" Ironhide asked again, agitation in his rumble of a voice.

"No," Optimus replied for the fifth time. "Galloway is a nuisance, but we must endure him. It would not be acceptable or in agreement with our code to demolish his helicopter. It would also not be acceptable to step on him or attempt to run over him while in alt mode."

"I'm just waiting for him to twitch the wrong way. Give me an excuse to remove him," Ironhide grumbled, revving his powerful engine to make his point.

Optimus made the mechanical equivalent of a sigh. "Old friend, I understand the humiliation he put you through while I was… incapable of acting. All of you suffered due to his orders."

A chorus of revving engines and subsonic Cybertronian murmurings answered him.

"We may not be able to remove him, but we can still watch him. If he does anything rash, we will know," Ratchet said.

While the older Autobots mused over Galloway, the younger ones were busy doing… other activities.

"Dude. Check thith out," Mudflap said.

"What?" Skids asked. Both Twins were in their alt modes, but they could still "see" one another using enhanced sensors.

"Check out thith crazy bird. He'th trippin' or somethin'," Mudflap said. Skids detected motion and focused on it. A seagull was attacking Mudflap's left side mirror, convinced that its reflection was a threat.

Mudflap twisted the mirror around, and the bird followed its image, wings pumping furiously as it shrieked and pecked at its supposed nemesis.

"Duuude," Skids snorted. "Freakin' hilarious, bro."

"Hey hey hey. Watch thith." A shiny, mirrorlike apparatus unfolded from the top of Mudflap's hood. The bird saw itself in this new reflection and went into attack mode. It furiously assaulted the mirror, raising such a fuss that a few other Autobots made annoyed sounds.

"Yo! It just crapped on you, man!" Skids snickered.

Mudflap's sensors picked up the oozing organic waste and he cried out in dismay. "Aw, c'mon!" He honked his horn once, an amplified blast much louder than a normal car's; the bird flew away in an explosion of feathers, terrified.

While Mudflap meticulously cleaned the soiled area using several intricate tools that unfolded from inside the hood, Skids spotted a very different avian being approaching their position. "Hey, speakin' of birds, look who's comin'!"

Several sets of sensor arrays honed in on the six human-avian hybrids that were approaching the line of vehicles. The strange mutant talking dog trotted after them.

"Ah. The children are here. Good; I have much to speak with them about." That said, Optimus transformed, morphing from an eighteen-wheeler to his bipedal, towering form.

I slowed my walking as I saw Optimus unfolding. In a matter of seconds he was about forty feet tall and gazing down at us with those piercing blue eyes.

"Hi," I said, craning my neck. I saw how they were all lined up and frowned. "What are you all doing?"

"We are observing Director Galloway," Ironhide growled.

"Looks more like you're all getting ready to charge or something," Gazzy said, grinning slightly.

"If only," Ironhide muttered. He remained in his truck form, revving his engine now and then in irritation.

"Maximum Ride. It does me good to see you and your Flock together and whole. I would have consulted with you sooner, but after the Decepticon attack, myself and the other Autobots were busy. I apologize for the delay." Optimus turned slightly and fixed his gaze on Fang. "Two of your ribs are still cracked. It would be prudent to remain within the confines of the NEST underground."

Fang tensed, then relaxed. A little. "I'm tougher than I look."

"Yeah. We all are." I shifted my weight from foot to foot. "So what do you know about this Galloway dude? I take it you don't like him or something?"

"An understatement," Ironhide spat.

"Indeed." Optimus sounded tired. He made a gesture that to a human would have been pinching the bridge of his nose. "Galloway made some mistakes during the conflict with the Fallen. I will not go into detail, but while I was unable to act due to unforeseen circumstances, Galloway put the Autobots in lockdown and restrained them from acting of their own free will. He froze NEST temporarily and was only stopped when Major Lennox and Sergeant Epps… _removed _him from the action."

I recalled what Galloway had said about a "practical joke" over the Middle East. "Oh. That makes sense."

"In short, Galloway is a narrow-minded human who assumes that he has the power to protect Earth from destruction by removing _all _alien beings from the planet. Us and the Decepticons," Ratchet said, approaching us. He transformed and shook his head. "He thinks we are the reason for all the casualties the Decepticons have inflicted. I thought the recent events would have changed his mind, but he remains unconvinced."

"He does not see the truth… that if we were to leave Earth, the Decepticons would continue to ravage humanity until all humans were extinct. That is their way. They enslave, they conquer, and they destroy," Optimus said. Then he met my gaze. "And there is something else. Galloway wants you under government control because he fears you. He fears anything he cannot understand, and as long as you are free to do as you wish, he will stop at nothing to ensure you are contained. Be very careful."

I swallowed hard, then smirked. "So the government idiot thinks he can bag us and tag us? Well then. I dare him to try. Him and his little toadies are _nuthin' _compared to, say, wolf-human hybrids or _flying _wolf-human hybrids or psychotic child-torturing mad scientists."

Optimus leaned down and lowered his voice. "You are the leader of your Flock, Max. Nothing you have experienced in the past will be comparable to the future. It is your duty to protect your comrades and the people of Earth. What the Decepticons aim to do is much more despicable than the By-Half Plan. Every test you have passed so far has prepared you for your journey. We are leaders, Max—sometimes we must make choices that go against what we desire, but will preserve many lives. Are you ready to make those choices?"

I felt dry-mouthed and wacky. Op sure has a knack for Voice-ish dramatic speeches, now, don't he?

"Uh, yeah, sure." I nodded. "Ready and waiting."

"Good." Optimus straightened back up to his full height. "I wish all of you the best of luck, whatever path you choose. But I will say this. Agents Simmons may be slightly odd, but he knows more about the Decepticons than most of the top NEST officials do. He is dedicated to his cause and, though he has his moments, has a brilliant mind for a human. If you choose to go with him, I would label that as your best shot. But again, it is your decision. Your choice."

"My choice. Right." I crossed my arms. Ever need a guru, go to Optimus Prime, folks! He'll tell ya!


	25. Chapter 25 The Gas Attack

Gazzy woke up slowly, his head spinning and his face strangely numb. He struggled to sit up, but found that his hands were tied with plastic. He coughed, noted that he didn't have a gag tied over his mouth, and tried to focus on his surroundings.

He was in a dark room with no windows. Great.

Gazzy tried to move his legs, but they were bound at the ankles. He squirmed and managed to sit upright against the wall. The air smelled stale.

He remembered going to steal some food from the mess hall while the rest of the Flock was sleeping. Then something had stung the back of his neck and he didn't remember anything else.

_Max is going to kill me for sneaking out in the middle of the night_, he thought with a shudder.

He heard voices close by. Suddenly a door opened and light streamed in. Gazzy squinted and struggled against his restraints. Two men in suits stood over him, wearing sunglasses that hid their eyes. They weren't Erasers… too old, too ugly. They hauled him up by his armpits and legs and toted him into the hall. Gazzy didn't recognize this part of the NEST base.

He tried to talk, but his mouth was numb. His tongue wouldn't work right, and he realized to his horror that he was drooling. He tried to suck in the drool and wondered when the Novacaine would wear off.

After several minutes of walking, the two men went through a door and then ended up outside. The sky was pitch black. Gazzy had excellent night vision, though, so he saw everything: the silver Hummer parked straight ahead, the men in black suits all around, guarding it. It didn't take a genius to figure out that the Gasman was being kidnapped.

They dumped him in the back seat and started driving.

"The chopper's not far. Galloway said keep it quiet, don't rush. We don't want any of those alien things listening," one of them said in a low voice.

"Right." The driver slowed down. "Quiet."

Gazzy's eyes widened at the word _Galloway_. Max would freak when she heard about this. Maybe Ironhide would run the guy over a couple times.

Assuming Gazzy escaped before they could get him on the helicopter.

"Should we give it another tranquilizer?" The man in the passenger's seat asked, worried. "It woke up much too early. Its system must work off the effects faster than a normal human's."

"Nah, leave it be. It's just a stupid kid," the driver sneered.

Gazzy scowled, then his eyes widened. Oh no. He could feel _something _down in his digestive system that wanted out.

His name wasn't the _Gas_man for nothing.

He tried moving his lips and his tongue. The Novacaine had worn off a lot by now. His cheeks were still tingly, but he could talk. "Hey. You guys? I have to go."

"See? It talks. I need to tranquilize it." The man fiddled with a syringe.

"Go where, kid? You don't go _anywhere_," the driver spat. "Now shut up."

"But I have to _go_. Like, sit on the porcelain throne. Like, visit the _oval office,_" Gazzy insisted.

"I said shut up! Okay, tranquilize it," the driver snapped. The other man turned and leaned to stick the needle in Gazzy.

Gazzy grinned a grin that was both demonic and sadistic.

What happened next was what young boys define as "letting it rip".

A sulfurous, noxious odor filled the Hummer's interior, a combination of odors that best resembled tear gas and methane. Both men started coughing and their eyes watered profusely. "DEAR GOD!" the driver yelled, overcome. He struggled to maintain control of the vehicle. "WHAT WAS THAT?"

"Oh, so you like it? Here's another one!" Gazzy then let it rip again. This time it was too much. The Hummer screeched to a halt and the men opened their doors and staggered out. Fumes left the Hummer, and Gazzy cackled.

The man who had been driving opened one of the back doors. His bloodshot, watering eyes met Gazzy's, and they were full of rage. "Come here, you little…" He reached for Gazzy with both hands, as if to strangle him.

"Excuse me."

Both men turned slowly to see Ironhide standing behind them. He had driven up silently and now gazed down at them like an ominous, vengeful god.

"Please step away from the vehicle," Ironhide rumbled.

Neither man moved.

"Please step away from the vehicle _now_," Ironhide rumbled again, holding up one of his cannons. It whirred and the inside of the barrel began to glow as it charged up.

Both men scrambled to get far away from the Hummer.

Ironhide bent down and simple peeled off the top of the vehicle. Gazzy peered up at the black Autobot with wide, awed eyes.

"Whatever is that stench?" Ironhide wondered, his olfactory sensors picking up traces of a repulsive odor.

"It's my specialty scent. _Le Gaz_," Gazzy gloated, proud of his stench.

Ironhide carefully picked up the young boy and cut his restraints with surgically-precise blades that unfolded from the tip of one metal finger. Gazzy flew up and stood on Ironhide's shoulder, peering down at his former captors.

"What should we do to them?" Gazzy asked, crossing his arms.

"I must escort them back to the NEST compound and report their actions to high command. They will be questioned." Ironhide turned his loathing blue gaze to the two cowering men. "Ratchet and the Twins are rounding up the others involved in this plot. I expect there will be much to discuss."

"Escort… hmmm. Does that mean you get to carry them upside down by their legs?" Gazzy wondered.

Ironhide chuckled. "How creative. I like it."

And so, he did.


	26. Chapter 26 Leaving the NEST

To say that pretty much everyone at NEST was totally ready to rip off Galloway's head would be a big understatement, so I won't say it.

We were all shaken from our sleep by antsy guards, who reported that Gazzy had been recovered from a kidnapping attempt. And guess who was responsible? Galloway! His goons had snagged the Gasman while said bird kid was on a fridge-raiding quest. I wasn't at all surprised when I found out the results of that attempt. As soon as Gazzy was in our midst, Iggy slapped him a high five and crowed, "You're the MAN!"

It's a guy thing.

I crossed my arms and gave him my best glare. "Now do you know why I told everyone to stay put at night?"

"At least I didn't get attacked by Decepticons." Gazzy grinned. "I doubt they'd be as _sensitive _to my skill."

"Actually, they have pretty high-tech olfactory sensors, so you'd have probably given them overload," Fang said.

"I'm so glad you're okay!" Nudge bawled, crushing Gaz in a feathery bear hug. "Just think what they could have _done _to you!"

"I'd rather not," Gazzy managed, gagging in Nudge's death grip.

"I can hear their thoughts." Angel cocked her head, and then smiled. "They think you're radioactive or something. Now they're scared of you."

"The last thing we need is for the Gasman to go nuclear," I groaned.

Lennox came in through the door. The heavily guarded, authorized-personnel-only door. His eyes were still bleary from sleep. "Everyone OK?" he asked, his eyes flicking from one flock member to the next.

"Right as rain. Can I kill Galloway now? I promise I'll clean up the mess when I'm done," I asked cheerily.

"Not quite. Let the brass handle him. In the meantime, let's discuss the issue at hand: your safety. Clearly this base is no longer the safe haven we thought it would be."

"It's time for us to disappear," Angel piped up. "Like Agent Simmons said."

"Exactly." Lennox stifled a yawn and ran his fingers through his short brown hair. "Get dressed and report to the briefing room when you're done. And be sure you get everything you'll be taking with you. I doubt you'll be back in these rooms for a long time."

I glanced at Fang, who nodded. It was time.

"Sure." I didn't exactly like the idea of running off with Agent Simmons at, say, _three in the morning_, but lately I seem to be turning nocturnal, and it was our only viable option. "We'll hurry."

He left. I clapped my hands and shooed away the boys. "Let us womenfolk have some privacy," I said.

Angel pulled on her newest outfit: a set of sweats, some Hello Kitty tennis shoes, and a little purple and orange windbreaker jacket. Nudge dug through the drawer under her cot and donned the clothes she had come here in, dirt stains and all. I got out my original jeans-and-bloodstained-T-shirt ensemble, scrutinized it, then decided I would just wear my plain gray working-out T-shirt, my baggy dark navy blue pants, and my combat boots. They sure were comfy for military wear. I pulled on my own windbreaker jacket and shook my head, loosening my tangled hair. "Ready," I said.

We went out in the hall. The guys were already there. Fang was in all black, as usual; Iggy had on an oversize T-shirt and his old blue jeans with holes in them; Gazzy was in his NEST regalia, his khaki T-shirt and camouflage pants and combat boots.

We silently made our way to the briefing room, where Agent Simmons and some other agents were already waiting. Simmons looked relaxed, even amused. I caught sight of some high-tech troopers wearing a lot of body armor and carrying guns I had never seen before. Some security, eh? They kind of creeped me out, too.

"Well, Max Ride, looks like it's time to say bye-bye to your bot buddies," Simmons announced. I noticed he had on a trench coat over his suit, and he had donned his shades. "Before Galloway decides to exercise his federal authority against _my_ Presidentially-ordained omnipotence, we'd better smuggle you outta here. You're familiar with air travel without the use of your wings, correct? Helicopter?"

"Yeah. Somewhat." I hated the idea of being cooped up in a flying box, powerless.

"Well, that's our ticket outta here. You got ten minutes to wrap things up and say your farewells. Then it's time to go AWOL."

"Wait a sec. I don't really think a helicopter is all that _safe_. I mean, a Decepticon could just shoot a missile and poof! We'd all be popcorn high up in the air," I protested.

"This ain't no ordinary helicopter, kid. He's a Bot. Name's Springer," Simmons said. "No time for chit-chat. Move, move, move!" He turned and almost tripped over Total. "Somebody keep that dog out from underfoot!"

"_THAT DOG_!" Total shouted, infuriated. "Excuse _me_!"

Simmons took off his shades for a moment, blinked, then popped them back on. "Fine then. Mister Pooch, would you be so kind as to remove yourself out from underfoot? Thank you."

Total opened and closed his mouth, growled, then trotted arrogantly over to Angel, muttering rude words.

I grinned.

As we walked down the hall toward the Autobots' hangar, Nudge matched walking speeds with me and glanced at me nervously.

"You're sure this is the right thing to do, right?" she asked, for the fifth time. "Like, has the Voice agreed? Is it a trap?"

"The only _trap _here is Galloway," I said, scowling. "If we don't wanna end up living as lab rats again, we'd better take our chances and get while the getting's good."

"At least we'll be able to leave this base. I mean, I can't see, but I still get claustrophobic. Stale air. No room to fly. Too many people," Iggy said.

"I agree. It's time we had a change of scenery," Fang added.

I slowed my pace and waited till Fang was at my side. I glanced over at him. He looked so dark and strong, so ready for anything. My silent, dunderheaded hero.

"Max, what does _dunderheaded _mean?" Angel piped up, cuddling Celeste as she walked.

I almost gagged. Oh, Lord.

"Nothing, _sweetie_," I said through gritted teeth. "Just a big word they use in spelling bees."

"Oh." Angel shrugged, her blue eyes wide and innocent. _The little demon._

Gah, how I hate farewells. Even if you're only saying goodbye to, say, a gathering of alien robots.

"I trust Agent Simmons' judgment," Optimus mused, towering over us. "But I must say that my concern for your safety is considerable. Human means of protection are, frankly speaking, useless against a Decepticon assault. However, I will acknowledge that the recent advancements in weaponry put the six of you at a greater chance for survival."

"Oh, that's lovely to know," Iggy snorted.

"I agree with you there, big guy. Unfortunately, our only other option is staying here and letting Galloway poke us with probes. Not gonna happen," I replied, craning my neck back so I could look up in Prime's face. Not that he ever had any expressions, but it helped the conversation. Or something.

"We could always refer to my idea…" Ironhide said hopefully, fidgeting with one of his massive cannons.

"Your idea, Ironhide, is outside our code of conduct toward humans, and will not be executed," Optimus said flatly. "As I have said before: we cannot go against Galloway, unless we wish to reap the undesirable consequences."

"Uh-huh. Don't want the Man steppin' on us now," Skids proclaimed.

"We will be ready if you need us," Arcee—or rather, the three bots that made up Arcee—said. "If you are ever in danger, and have no means of escape, we will come to your aid. That is our oath."

"Gee, thanks." I crossed my arms. "I'll be sure to remember that."

Fang, who was standing off to one side, had been silent up to this point. Now he shuffled forward and cleared his throat.

"You guys have done so much for us—fighting off the Flyboys, saving the Gasman—I mean, you're all aliens, but you've done more for us than most humans ever have," he said. "How can we ever repay you?"

I almost fell flat on the floor. Fang was actually asking an emotional question? Since when did hell freeze over?

"By surviving." Optimus leaned down. "Your lives are precious. You are more than a feat of genetic engineering, you are warriors in your own right and protectors of Earth just as we are. As long as there are a few who will stand between Earth's people and destruction, there is hope. We fight to keep that hope alive. To keep _you _alive. Do you understand, boy?"

"I understand," Fang said, a determined light in his dark eyes.

"We all do," I intoned, and I glanced at my Flock. They were steely and ready to go, just the way I like 'em. We would make it. We had to.

Or there would be no world to save.


	27. Chapter 27 Helicopter Woes

_I hate helicopters, I hate helicopters, OH GOD I hate helicopters. Please God don't let me die…_

I forced my eyes open a teensy bit. We were flying over the dark ocean. I quickly shut them again. Me, the Flock, Agent Simmons, and his underlings were all crammed into this flying death trap, heading away from Diego Garcia to Lord-knows-where. Sure, we were all strapped in tight and secured, but my fight-or-flight (get it?) instincts were on red alert. I didn't trust anything but good ol'-fashioned wings to fly with… even if it was a super-powerful, alien being named Springer.

"This ROCKS!" Gazzy shouted above all the racket.

"Yeah, it's kind of cool, flying without using wings! I mean, we did get on that plane once, but that was different! This is, like, secret agent stuff and we're, like, going AWOL! That is the right term, isn't it? AWOL?" Nudge babbled.

Angel, bless her wee heart, was _asleep_… or pretending really convincingly, snuggling with Celeste and Total at the same time. He was stiff and wide-eyed, clinging to her for dear life even though he had a little harness that would hold him in should anything bad happen.

I looked over at Fang, who was to my immediate right. Then I looked at Iggy, who was to my immediate left. Both of them looked bored.

"Feelin' okay, Max?" Simmons shouted, noticing my sour expression. Or maybe he could see the greenish hue of my face in the dim light.

"Just _peachy_," I called, avoiding having to look at the outside world, which was going by really fast. I tried to forget how high above the ocean we were and how awful it would be if a Decepticon just blasted us all out of the sky.

"_You have no reason to be ill at ease, trust me. I'm pretty good at handling trouble. Takes more than some high winds or a stray 'Con to get to me," _a voice said through hidden speakers.

"Oh, hi, Springer old chap," I said, suppressing my fears. For now. "Any chance you could somehow serve up, say, some barf bags?"

_"Given the fact that you are part avian, and that you fly quite often, makes me confused as to why you should need something of that nature. Surely you aren't afraid of heights?"_

"It's not the heights I'm afraid of," I said through clenched teeth as we swerved again.

_"All the same, I assure you that your journey will be catastrophe-free and relatively easy."_

I perked up and glanced at Simmons. "Speaking of journey, where to? We deserve to know where we're going, pal."

Simmons's eyes narrowed. "First off, I am not 'pal'. I am a secret agent. Second, you are headed to a location that will provide a temporary rest stop for you and the Flock. A kind of safe house. You'll like it. Real homey and boring."

"Aw! I thought we were headed somewhere cool! Like, the Pentagon!" Gazzy complained.

I made a face at him. "The day someone lets you walk into the Pentagon is the day we all die!"

"Actually, the Pentagon might fit into our travel plans. Somewhere down the road. Right now I'm kind of making this up as I go along. No worries. I'm a professional," Simmons said.

I rolled my eyes. "So where we headed now?"

"Little place in California. Town called Tranquility," Simmons answered.

I saw Nudge's eyes widen. "Ooh, California! Are we gonna be close to Hollywood? Or Las Vegas? Or Los Angeles? Or a pretty beach where we can surf and—"

"This ain't a luxury vacation, it's a survival quest!" I hollered.

"Chill out," Simmons ordered. "Like I was saying: I'm a professional, so there's no need to get your panties in a wad."

_It ain't my panties, it's my _intestines _that are in a wad right now, _I thought glumly. But I didn't say anything… for once in my life. I looked at Fang, and he looked back at me, his dark eyes keen and calm. I felt my throat tighten. Wherever we ended up, I could only hope it was somewhere _safe. _Like we even know what that word _means _anymore, but still.


	28. Chapter 28 Wickwittys

"Welcome to Suburbia, kiddos. Hey, you with the wings—stop pickin' your nose, it's unsanitary," Agent Simmons groused, eyeing Iggy.

"We all have wings, genius," I smarted off, craning my neck so I could see out of the minivan that Simmons had picked up from some of his sunglasses-and-earpiece-wearing government buddies. But Gazzy's spiky-haired head was clogging up my field of vision, and I shoved him aside so I could scan our surroundings. Y'know, so we wouldn't all get out of the van and run into robot soldiers with AK-47s, or anything unpleasant like that.

"This town is nice," Angel piped up, clutching Celeste to her, smiling… well… angelically. "Most of the people have nice thoughts, too."

Simmons muttered something inarticulate upon hearing that, and I chuckled. He slowed the van's speed, one hand turning the steering wheel while the other kept a death grip on a super-sized soft drink from a local fast food joint. He was dressed in civilian clothing, and wore a New York Yankees ballcap on his head.

"Now let's run through this again, just in case you forgot the last five times," Simmons said, taking another sip from his drink, "Rule Number One: No showing of the wings to anyone but me, your guardians, and your mirror. Rule Number Two: Try not to interact too much with the natives, they're kinda dense anyway, and we don't want to blow your cover. Rule Number Three…" He paused for effect. "If it looks, acts, resembles, or so much as _smells_ like a Decepticon, you get as far away from it as possible."

"Or we just use the weapons Petr and Kaminari gave us," Nudge reminded him.

"Personally I don't put much faith in those glorified bug zappers," Simmons snorted. "You want somethin' effective against 'Cons? Try a rail gun, or maybe the Death Star."

"Ha ha, very funny," I drawled.

I sat back in my seat and felt my shoulder touch Fang's. He was looking out the window, his expression vague. He mostly looked bored and emo. And undeniably hot. The usual.

"I have to go," Total spoke up, raising his head off Nudge's lap.

"I thought I told you to go back at the gas station!" Simmons griped.

"Yeah, but I was busy," Total retorted defensively.

"Busy doing what? Oh yeah, I forgot—that Shih Tzu in the Camry," I sighed. "You don't even know if that was a _girl_, Einstein."

"I could smell it! It was the scent of Venus herself!" Total breathed, lost in the memory.

"She smelled like a plant that eats bugs?" Gazzy asked, confused.

"Seriously, guys… I really have to pee," Total whined, shifting his weight uncomfortably.

"Practice some self-control, we're almost there," Simmons told him, now seemingly comfortable with the fact that he was talking to a mutant Scottie. "And don't get any funny ideas, 'cause I am _not _paying to have that seat cleaned!"

Iggy had just finished slurping up the remains of his smoothie. Total eyed the paper cup eagerly. "Hey Iggy, can I pee in your cup?"

Iggy just slowly moved the cup over until it was as far away from the source of Total's voice as he could possibly move it. "Nuh-uh."

"So…" I gnawed my lip, mulling over the situation. "What if these 'guardians' don't exactly appreciate having to take care of us? I mean, we are quite the chaotic handful."

Simmons chortled. "You'll see. Trust me, these people have been through way worse than a gaggle of mutant human-avians. Their kid's a real troublemaker."

"How long do you think we'll be stuck here?" Fang asked in a bored tone, flicking some of his black hair away from his eyes.

"Oh, not too long," Simmons said nonchalantly. "Just until, you know, the apocalypse or somethin'. Not really. We should have something figured out in a few weeks or so."

I leaned forward and looked past Fang, at the outside world. I could see white picket fences in front of trimmed green lawns and nice houses. It was like one of those happy little places you encounter in the occasional reruns of a 1950's TV show.

Too bad. Once the Flock comes around, places like that tend to end up looking like a nuclear war zone at best.

Finally the van slowed and stopped in front of a two-story house. We all goggled at it, just waiting for some threat to come charging out the innocent-looking front door. But, egad! No such threat was forthcoming.

And… wait… was that a… _doghouse…?_

"Um, Max…"

I looked over at the Gasman. "Wha—"

His eyes were very blue and innocent. Oh, the lie. "Oops."

"A'right, that does it! Everybody outta the van! OUT!" Simmons snapped, pinching his nose and hurriedly keying off the ignition. Fang yanked the side door open and jumped out, followed by Nudge, Total, Angel, Iggy, and last of all, me. We were all coughing and wiping our watery eyes, and when Gazzy tried to follow us, I shut the door in his face. "Not till it's all out of your system, bub," I said hoarsely, wishing I had no olfactory nerves.

"If it's not Total having to pee it's you having to fart! Ugh! MEN!" Nudge hissed, no doubt worried that the smell would linger on her clothes.

Speaking of which… Total was happily approaching a small tree, literally jumping for joy, when he stopped suddenly and sniffed the air. "Oh, this can't be! There are other dogs here!" he complained. "Great!"

We all walked on the lawn, observing the pristinely-trimmed bushes and bright flowers, and Angel ran over to see the birdbath. Simmons, still hacking from Gazzy's eruption, was unloading our luggage—what little we had—with Fang's help. I would have gotten my own (me? Needing male assistance? Absurd!) but I really didn't want to inhale the air around that van all that much. Not that I'm a sissy or anything… you'd just have to smell it for yourself to understand.

"Suh-weet," Gazzy breathed, eyeing the brand-spankin'-new Chevy Camaro that graced the driveway with its presence. It looked like it had just been turtle-waxed and seemed to sparkle with awesomeness.

Simmons stood up, straightened his civilian jacket, and very calmly walked across the yard to the front door. He rang the doorbell once, paused for five seconds, then rang it a few more times in succession. Then he looked through the paper slot.

"Is it just me," Nudge wondered under her breath, smiling slightly, "or is Agent Simmons kinda nuts?"

"Yep," I agreed, smirking. "But I think it's the good kind of nuts."

The door opened and a middle-aged man poked his head out. When he saw Simmons he seemed to jump slightly. "Whaddya want?" he demanded, then saw us standing on the lawn. "Aw, c'mon… will ya please get off the grass?" he pleaded, motioning for us to get on the concrete path.

We all just kind of looked at each other in our adorable way and sheepishly scooted onto the path. Total was finishing up his business… on the grass… and he scurried after us.

Simmons, meanwhile, was rapidly explaining everything to the man, who seemed to get paler and paler the more Simmons talked. Finally he blurted "JUDY! You gotta come see this!"

"Ron?" a female voice inquired, and a brunette woman joined the man in the doorway. When she saw Simmons she scowled. "Ronald, what is he doing here?"

"Uh, Judy…" Ronald pointed at us. Nudge waved.

"Who are they?" Judy wondered, eyeing us warily. Then she turned to Simmons. "Look, buster, we don't want anything else to do with… with giant alien robots! It doesn't matter where we go or what we do, we're always running into them, and whenever you come around they come after you!"

"Looks like we're screwed," Fang murmured, shaking his head.

"Do they look like robots to you?" Simmons sighed. "I thought we had already discussed this…"

"Yeah, but _you _said we'd only be considered as a last resort!" Ronald protested, crossing his arms over his paunch.

"This _is _the last resort," Simmons said wearily. "Why else do you think I took the trouble of coming here in the first place, Mr. Wickwitty?"

"It's _Wit-WICKY_," Ronald ground out through clenched teeth.

Nudge unsuccessfully tried to stifle a giggle, and clapped her hand over her smiling mouth. I rolled my eyes. This entire situation was going straight to the bad place, and we were just standing there like a bunch of idiots.

"Uh… Mom? Dad?"

A head poked out of the upstairs window. The head of a young man, probably not much older than me, Fang and Iggy. He had dark hair, cut short, and resembled his father slightly in the face. He saw Simmons and grinned, leaning on the windowsill. "Long time no see, Seymour," he said, inclining his head at Simmons.

"Sam," Simmons said, acknowledging the boy's presence.

"What's going on?" Sam asked, looking us over with dark eyes that reminded me of Fang's. Heh.

I stepped forward and waved lazily, cracking a smile that was either very convincing or very scary. "Uh… Hi. I'm Max. Maximum Ride, if you're one for big words."

"Get off the grass," Ronald moaned. A normal human wouldn't have heard him, but with my raptor hearing, I picked it up just fine.

"Uh, sorry about… um, that," Total said, clearing his throat and casting small glances over at the poorly concealed doggy logs that stood out against the pleasant green yard. "I'll clean it up later, I swear."

Ronald and Judy could just gape, while Sam grinned and said, "Cool."

I stepped back onto the path, and Simmons pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. The bags under his eyes only served to accent just how worn-out he was feeling right now. "This… is… gonna… be… difficult," he muttered, shaking his head.

Like anything's ever easy for us, but still, sometimes we get up the nerve to hope.


	29. Chapter 29 Pizza Fixes Everything

Apparently one of the best ways to smooth over an awkward and potentially catastrophic situation is to order gargantuan amounts of pizza.

I stuffed another slice of meat lover's into my mouth and wiped my greasy fingers on one of the paper napkins Judy Witwicky had bestowed. She seemed to be tolerating us pretty well; already she had declared that Angel was "just the _cutest_ little thing" and insisted that Gazzy looked just like Sam at that age. I didn't see how, but kept it to myself. At least we hadn't been kicked out at first sight.

Ronald Witwicky was just plain bewildered, but with his wife bustling around showering us with hospitality all of a sudden, he wasn't protesting. Mainly he just sat a good distance away from Simmons and nommed his share of pizza. I suspected that he and the secret agent had clashed in the past over something or other.

Sam sat on the couch, perfectly at ease with Iggy to his left and me and Fang to his right. He was a few years older than us, having just turned twenty, but didn't act like we were _kids_. "So you met Optimus and everyone, huh? Lucky. I haven't seen the big guy in months," he remarked through a mouthful of cheese.

"It was totally. Freaking. AWESOME," Gazzy exhaled wistfully. He frowned as a Chihuahua jumped into his lap, taking advantage of his cross-legged position on the floor. "Hey, beat it, Taco Bell! Pizza Hut doesn't want any!"

"Mojo!" Sam got up, leaving his plate on Iggy's knees, and shooed the dog away. "Sorry about that. Thinks he's king of the castle."

"I can't believe I'll be stuck with these _primordials_," Total huffed, glowering as the Boston terrier- Frankie- panted in his face. Total scurried toward me and jumped on my lap. "Of all the insensitive, _despicable_ cruelties, making me share room and board with these butt-sniffing weirdos..."

"I've seen you sniff butts before, Total. Stop acting like a saint," I snarked, shoving him off my lap. He stuck out his tongue and trotted away, heading for the interior of the house.

"I got back from Princeton and thought I'd be bored all summer. You know, no Decepticons trying to destroy the world, and so on. Then I find out we might be having some 'special guests' and you guys show up," Sam went on, sitting back down. "Not to be rude or anything, but I'm used to dealing with alien robots. Mutants really aren't in my field of expertise."

"We're just like normal kids," Nudge insisted. "Like, if we didn't have wings and stuff, we'd be just like everyone else. Well, maybe not, 'cause, you know, everyone's different."

"What she's trying to say is that apart from the genetic tampering, we're bona fide 100 percent teenagers," Iggy spoke up. "Complete with sarcasm and bizarre eating habits."

_And out-of-control hormones_, I thought sourly. For some reason this Sam made me think of the Sam I had met in Virginia. The one I had... dated. Maybe it was just the name association, but it irked me. Why couldn't this guy be named Bob or Fred or something?

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Simmons slip in through the front door. He had been outside for the past forty-five minutes discussing things with others in his organization, and he looked vaguely flustered. "So, uh, Wickittys and bird kids," he began, clearing his throat. "It's settled. You six- er, seven, counting the dog- will be residing here in this humble abode for the next seven days. It's just a week, but a lotta crap can happen in that short amount of time. Don't worry. Samuel here's almost as professional as me when it comes to handling dire situations."

The expression on Sam's face when Simmons said that totally made my day.

"So you're dumping them on us," Ron mused dryly, gloomily accepting his fate.

"Pretty much, yeah," Simmons replied brightly. "Any questions?"

Nudge raised her hand. Simmons made an exasperated face at her.

"Uh, what happens if the Decepticons find out we're here? I mean, this isn't the NEST compound or anything. We're completely open to attack."

"Aha." Simmons grinned an all-knowing and slightly demented sort of grin. "Sammy boy. Inform these avian-American newbies of your secret weapon."

"Gotcha." Sam looked at us casually, as if he was about to tell us the weather. "My car's an Autobot. Name's Bumblebee."

"Suh-weet!" Gazzy crowed. "Yeah! Another Autobot! Wuh-wait..." He scrambled to the window and peered out with wide eyes. "You mean the... the _Camero?"_

"The one and only," Sam replied, smirking. "We'll go out to the lake where it's nice and isolated so you can meet him face-to-face. I don't think all of you will fit in the garage at once."

Gazzy just wandered back to stand by Iggy with a starstruck expression plastered on his face.

"But there are more robots," Angel piped up. She had taken a trip to the bathroom, and apparently she brought back more than an empty bladder. She had something in her arms like a toy... only this was the dang ugliest toy I had ever clapped eyes on. It looked like a Tonka truck that had gone through a meat grinder and then got turned into some kind of demented puppet by Jim Henson's sadistic twin brother. It looked at me with glowing red google eyes and wolf whistled.

I strode forward, snatched it away from Angel, then pinned it to the floor with my foot. "Hey! Hey! Hey, you, Witwicky, help me out here! She's crushing my head!" the robot babbled, panicking.

I glowered at Sam. "Red eyes, hello? Decepticon?"

"No, not anymore," Sam sighed, motioning for me to release the annoying bot. I did so, and it promptly transformed into a toy monster truck and hid behind Angel. I swear I heard it mutter about "crazy psycho chicken women" as it went.

"Wheelie- yeah, that's his name- defected from the Decepticons," Sam informed me somewhat ruefully. "He's been stuck with me ever since."

"That _thing_ is an abomination. And a perv!" Judy declared, crossing her arms. "Do you know it sleeps in my underwear drawer sometimes?"

"Not in front of the guests, Mom," Sam muttered through his teeth.

"So there ya have it. Autobot guardian, check, room and board for the bird kids, check, my mission mostly fulfilled, check. Anything I forgot to mention? Nope. So I'm done here," Simmons said briskly, crossing his arms in a way that I guess was supposed to be heroic.

"Mostly fulfilled? What else do you have to do?" Iggy asked.

"Classified. Hush-hush. Gotta run." With that, Simmons made for the front door. "If anything happens, Bumblebee will contact the rest of the Autobots and NEST. So kick back, relax, enjoy your stay."

"He seems so optimistic," I groused to Fang.

"Or maybe deluded. Delusion can be cheerful, you know," Fang muttered.

The door slammed, and two pictures on the walls became crooked as a result. We all looked at each other in awkward silence. Then Judy turned to us with a somewhat strained smile. "So... where are you from?" she asked expectantly.

"Oh, we're from an illegal organization run by mad scientists where we slept in dog crates and had sadistic experiments performed on us 24/7" was what I wanted to say, but instead I smiled an equally strained smile and innocuously told her "Uh... Florida."

This was going to be an _interesting_ week, I could tell already.


	30. Chapter 30 Bird and Bee

**A/N: Sorry these new chapters have taken so long to get posted. I broke my computer, got a new one, retyped a lot of crap. Plus, now that I've seen Dark of the Moon, I can add in some new and awesome stuff I wouldn't have been able to before. These chapters may seem boring, but it's just the lull before the storm. Enjoy!**

I could hear crickets chirping outside. It sounded so strange compared to the relative silence of NEST's living quarters. I rolled over in my makeshift bed on the floor and buried my face in the pillow. Nudge lay beside me, her mouth open and drool escaping one corner. Angel was on the couch, fast asleep, while Iggy, Gazzy and Fang were all upstairs rooming with Sam. Judy Witwicky had insisted that Sam give his bed to us ladies, but I talked her out of it. A sleeping bag on a hardwood floor is _not_ the worst sleeping arrangement I've ever had, believe me.

Sam's parents were... decent people, I decided. They had their quirks. But compared to the people me and the Flock have interacted with over the years, the Witwickys were a right fine and normal bunch. Ron was the steady and reasonable type. Judy was the well-meaning but slightly zany type. I thought they were cute together, actually. Jeb and my mom could never be that affectionate with each other.

_ Jeb... Mom..._

I squelched whatever fuzzy thoughts I had about my parents and shifted my position yet again. For some reason I just couldn't get comfortable!

I froze when I heard footsteps on the stairs. I turned slowly and caught a glimpse of Sam heading for the kitchen, dressed in a T-shirt and baggy pants. My stomach growled, and I quietly got up and followed him. Hopefully the Witwickys kept a well-stocked fridge...

"Hey. Max, right?" Sam greeted me, pouring himself some milk.

I brushed some of the hair out of my face and nodded. "That's the name, don't wear it out." I gestured at the open fridge. "I got the munchies."

"Help yourself. My parents are on a health kick. Everything on the left side is theirs and therefore is completely gross and inedible. On the right side, however, is a perfectly arranged selection of junk food and caffeine. Unlike them, I care for my delicate palate."

I snagged a small plastic cup of chocolate pudding. "So, um, Sam... you obviously have some history with the Autobots and Decepticons, from what I've heard."

"And they don't let me forget it," he snorted. He set the gallon of milk back in the fridge and shut it, yawning. "I got involved in their war when I inherited my great-granddad's alien-rune-inscribed spectacles. Then I bought Bumblebee thinking he was just a crappy used car. After that, my whole life got turned upside down. But good stuff came out of it. I mean, my car's a kickass Autobot, I saved the Earth two or three times, got awards from the President, got an amazing girlfriend..." At that he paused, as if he'd said too much, then resumed. "So yeah, it's complicated. What about you? I mean, if it's classified, you don't have to say anything, but... well, I know you didn't just grow wings 'cause you felt like it."

"Let's just say it has to do with a bunch of evil scientists who like playing around with DNA and leave it at that," I told him. "Trust me, it's better for you if that's all you know."

"I get it." Sam finished off his milk and was silent for a moment, then looked back at me. "Could I... I mean, I don't wanna intrude on your privacy or anything but... I mean, Simmons told us you were bird kids or whatever, but I've never seen..."

"My wings?" I smirked. "Tell ya what. I'll show you mine if you show me yours- your car, that is. Bumblebee."

"Sounds fair." Sam grinned.

We snuck out the front door and made our way across the yard to the garage. Sam was barefoot; I had slipped on my boots, part of my whole "constant survival preparation" complex. It was a peaceful night in the suburbs. I heard a cat meowing nearby, along with the chorus of crickets from earlier, but other than that it was still and quiet.

Sam opened the door to the garage and I followed him inside. The Camaro appeared perfectly normal, like any other car, but I knew better. I sort of hung back while Sam approached the vehicle- the _Autobot_. "Hey, Bee, we got important company. She's cool, she knows all about the Autobots. She's been hangin' out with Optimus and all the others for the past couple weeks."

Before he could even finish that last sentence, the car began to transform. In a matter of seconds, a gold Autobot stood (er, crouched) before me. I saw how the doors made little wing-like things on his back and resisted the urge to giggle. "So you're Bumblebee, huh?" I said, taking a step forward. "I'm Maximum Ride. I'm sure you've heard of me by now."

Bumblebee extended a huge hand and I shook gingerly, grasping the tip of his forefinger. I expected him to say something, but instead he just made a weird noise, and then I heard radio static. _"Take me on your mighty wings, take me on your mighty wings toniiiight..."_ a distinctly 80's-sounding song said.

"Bee has some...issues with his voice. He got hurt a while back and even though Ratchet's done his best to fix the problem, he still can't talk." Sam patted Bumblebee's shin. "But he still gets his point across."

_"I gotta fight for what's right, today I'm speaking my mind"_ the radio blared.

"Keep it down, man, it's the middle of the night," Sam admonished.

I didn't know what to say. For some reason Bumblebee just seemed to radiate cuteness. Sure, he was a highly-advanced gigantic alien robot probably loaded with several different types of uber-destructive weapons, but he looked more like a toy than some of the other Autobots. Maybe he was younger, like Mudflap and Skids.

"Pleased to meet ya," I said. "Be prepared, though. The others want to meet you too."

"We'll take care of that tomorrow." Sam looked up at Bumblebee. "Thought maybe we'd drive out to the lake, have some quality time. You up for that, Bee?"

Instead of replying with the radio, the Autobot nodded.

"Cool. I'll be sure and bring Mikaela along, too. I bet she won't mind getting to know you guys, have some girl talk, you know, stuff," Sam said.

"Who's Mikaela?" I frowned.

_"...Did you happen to see the most beautiful girl in the world..."_ Bee crooned.

"Uh, my girlfriend," Sam admitted, looking flustered.

"Awesome." I smiled at Bumblebee. Then I remembered my deal with Sam. "Oh, right. You wanna see some real wings? Well, take a good look." I took off my jacket and extended my wings slowly, until they reached their full span. Bumblebee made a noise that sounded impressed. Sam just stared, awestruck. Apparently living with an alien robot isn't as cool as my amazing wings.

"It's beaut-" Sam caught himself and cleared his throat. "Um. It's, uh, very nice. Very, um... cool."

I folded my wings back up and shrugged. "No worries. I don't molt."

Fang watched as Sam and Max exited the garage. He blended in perfectly with the darkness of Sam's bedroom window. Iggy and Gazzy were snoring; he was the only one awake. He watched as Max laughed at something Sam said and felt a knot of uneasiness in his chest.

_Don't be paranoid. She just freaking met the guy, for crying out loud_, he thought, crossing his arms. _But remember the other Sam? The one in Virginia? It didn't take very long for him to get to Max,_ a voice that might have been his own whispered in his mind.

This Sam was older. And he had fought alongside the mighty Autobots, saved the world too. As if Fang hadn't done things equally important, but still.

Even after Sam came back up and flopped into bed, Fang remained awake. He lay perfectly still in his sleeping bag and stared up at the ceiling, unable to dismiss the odd feeling. What if he and Max weren't really meant to be together? What if all these changes to their lives were changing them at their cores, turning them away from each other? Max would always be strong and independent and brave. It was like she had been programmed for it. But... what if that meant she didn't really _need_ him as much as he assumed she did?

_Time will tell_, Fang thought, rolling over and hoping his dreams wouldn't reflect his paranoia.


	31. Chapter 31 Tranquility For Now

My eyes flew open as soon as the first ray of sun came through the window. There was something wet on my arm. I frowned, then saw Nudge curled up close beside me, close enough for her open mouth to be drooling onto my wrist. I snatched my arm up and made a face. Nudge didn't so much as stir; she just kept on snoring softly and drooling contentedly. I made a mental note to check if Nudge had any dog genes somewhere in her DNA, then sat up and looked around. Sure enough, I was in the same room I had fallen asleep in. That was becoming more common lately, as opposed to the whole "waking up tied and gagged with duct tape in a crate" routine.

I must have gone back to sleep, because the next thing I knew, Gazzy was in my face shouting "PANCAKES!" at the top of his lungs.

I snapped upright, fighting the instinct that would normally have me grabbing whoever did that in a headlock. "Gaz. Not. In. The face," I ground out, blinking. The room was a lot brighter. Nudge and Angel were nowhere to be found. I felt something shift under the blanket and assumed it was Total.

I was so, so wrong.

"Jeez, smells like dirty gym socks in here," a tinny voice that reminded me of Bugs Bunny groused, and my eyes widened. I threw the blanket off my legs and glowered at the little blue robot that had frozen between my feet. I seriously did not want to know what he was trying to do. I pushed that notion so far back in my mind I would probably never find it again, then snatched up the robot before he could escape.

"I am going to pull off your arms and legs one by one, then pick off your eyes, and then sell what's left of you as an abstract sculpture. Or worse: an interesting toy for teething babies," I stated matter-of-factly.

"No! Not babies! Fat pink little blobs of certain death! I would rather be stepped on by Megatron!" the robot- Wheelie, I remembered- whined.

"Then get away from me, weirdo," I snapped. I tossed him away. He transformed into a toy monster truck in midair and hit the floor with tires spinning, and whizzed away into the back of the house.

Gazzy snickered and I gave him the glare of death.

"In case I wasn't loud enough, c'mon! Judy fixed pancakes, and not the instant kind either!" he said, running toward the kitchen area. I followed, rubbing my eyes and muttering under my breath.

Sure enough, there was a plate stacked at least two feet high with flapjacks... and there were more on the stove in progress. Angel, Nudge, Fang, Iggy, Sam and Total (who refused to eat on the floor with the other dogs) were already digging in.

"Great, not only are they going to invade our house, they're going to eat us out of it," Ronald Witwicky groused, beholding the spectacle from the doorway with a sour look.

"Oh, be positive, will ya? It's like having an extended sleepover! Only they're mutant refugees instead of Sammy's friends," Judy said briskly. She took a good look at Sam and tsked. "Mow that lawn on your face before you get fleas or something."

"Mmmm-nnngh," Sam replied through a mouthful, rolling his eyes. I couldn't help smirking. Then I saw the dark look that came over Fang's face when I smirked and I allowed it to fade, puzzled.

The next hour was spent washing up, getting dressed, and going to the local Wal-Mart for supplies like toothbrushes, extra clothes, and such. Apparently Simmons had left a credit card with the Witwickys in order to provide for us. Judy Witwicky and Nudge chattered ceaselessly while the rest of us split up to find our assigned items. My list was short and sweet: toothbrush, deoderant, assorted clothing, and sneakers. I have such a knack for quality shopping, I swear.

I picked out some generic T-shirts, a few pairs of jeans, a "cute" leather jacket (which had plenty of inside pockets for knives and grenades and stuff... heh), and a durable pair of white sneakers. When I met up with Nudge and Angel, I was unsurprised to see that Nudge had an armful of outrageously stylish clothes, while Angel had at least seven outfits decked out with ruffles, glitter and other frills. Gazzy and Iggy were all set with their guy wear, and Fang had, predictably, depleted the store's stock of black clothing. When our eyes met, his flashed in an odd way and he looked away with a set, unreadable expression.

What was _with_ him, anyway? I thought we had already gotten past our issues.

* * *

Of course, the first thing everyone (except Fang) wanted to do once we got back to Casa Witwicky was go out to the lake so they could properly interact with Bumblebee.

"This is so cool," Gazzy said, adjusting his new sunglasses on the bridge of his nose. He had on a black T-shirt that had the black and yellow radiation symbol on it, along with the words "KEEP CLEAR" in white lettering. The appropriateness of it was enough to make me giggle. "I vote we should live here forever."

"This town is boring. Seriously. I lived here for seventeen years and nothing happened until I bought Bee. And now that the apocalypse or whatever is over with, it's mind-numbingly boring again," Sam said. "Not that I don't mind the boring. Beats getting the crap kicked outta me by Decepticons."

We were loitering around the driveway, waiting for Iggy, Fang and Nudge to come out of the house so we could leave. Nudge had disappeared into the bathroom with a packet of hair dye, so I wasn't sure how long we'd be stuck waiting. Total was running around the yard with Mojo and Frankie hot on his heels, fuming.

I heard the chorus of the Goo Goo Dolls' "Before It's Too Late" coming from Sam's pocket, then he dug out his cell phone and answered it. "Hello? Oh, Mik, hi... yeah, of course I... oh." He paused, bit his lip, then glanced at us. "Huh? No! You think I'd forget? Hel-lo? This is me we're talking about, 'Kaela, I'm totally on it. But uh, there's just one thing. No, no I can't talk about it on the phone." Another pause. "Um... sure. But I won't be coming alone. You okay with... oh, alright. I'll be there. Love you too," he added in a low, fond voice. He then ended the call and shoved his phone back into his pocket, then looked up at me with a somewhat distressed expression.

"That was my girlfriend. I'd, uh, promised her I'd come over for lunch. That was before... well, before you guys showed up," Sam admitted. "She still wants me to come, even though I won't be alone. She's cool though. She knows that sometimes some... unusual things happen."

"Is your girlfriend hot?" Gazzy asked, and Angel gave him a look. "Whaa-at?"

"She's the freakin' Warrior Goddess, man," Wheelie announced, racing out from under a nearby bush and transforming once he got close enough. He made sure to stay a few feet away from me, though. "Of course she's hot!"

"Okay, now that's just wrong. Get back inside," Sam muttered, shoving the miniature bot with his shoe.

"Hey hey! I ain't your pooch. I'm a sentient robotic organism! With feelings!" Wheelie argued. He ran over to Angel and hugged her leg. "This one understands me. Because I'm cute!"

I snorted. Sam rolled his eyes. "Yeah. Cute. It must be opposite day," he snarked.

"You're no catch yourself, squishy!"

"Okay, can it," I sighed, shaking my head. "Or I'll make good on my threat from earlier. The one about the babies?"

Wheelie mumbled something explicit and stayed firmly secured to Angel's leg. She just smiled.

Iggy came out of the door, with Fang leading him along. I walked up to meet Fang, but he just went past me. I almost said something in protest, but clammed up. Now was not the time to argue about our pseudo-quasi-relationship.

Finally Nudge emerged. She had on a glittery purple tank top, jeans with rhinestone butterflies on the sides, and sandals that showed off her orange-painted toenails. Her hair had purple streaks in it that matched her shirt, and she had on glittery eyeshadow. I resisted the urge to facepalm.

"I have a question," she asked, before I could question her fashion sense. "How are all six of us gonna fit into that car?" She pointed at Bumblebee.

"Easy," I replied, before Sam could open his mouth. "We make like sardines and go squish."

* * *

"And you're _certain_?"

Megatron usually didn't question his followers regarding the veracity of their claims. But given the events of late, he was feeling a bit paranoid (or maybe it was just the gaping hole in his head getting to him).

"I'm very certain," Starscream said smugly. "I've confirmed the little meatsack's identity via DNA match, as well as Itexicon records. There are a few differences, but that is only because this species is too dense to clone properly. Nothing that would be obvious to their primitive eyes, however."

He then set the cube he had been holding between thumb and forefinger on the ground. It wasn't a cube; it was a box. A crate. Starscream flicked off the crate's lid and something crawled out, a human. But not just any human. Wings extended from its slender back, and it groaned as its fragile limbs ached from the less-than-comfortable journey.

Then it looked up at Megatron with a defiant glare, and its pathetic show of bravado was so amusing that it elicited a grunt from the Decepticon leader.

"Maximum Ride," he growled in a deep voice. "Or should I say... the cheap knockoff version?"

"Go to hell," the mutant female spat.

"I'm afraid I'm already there," Megatron said dismissively. "You, however... have only just arrived."

Starscream rubbed his taloned hands together in anticipation, while the clone of Maximum Ride shuddered. Megatron nodded, and his second in command snatched up the mutant in one hand and took off toward the makeshift science wing of the underground base. The human's screams of fury and terror echoed off the rock walls, and it was all music to Megatron's audio receptors.

He then sent a private communique to Soundwave. "It's time to repay the boy and his female accomplice in kind. Initiate alpha phase of the plan. And please... remember your primary objective. You must capture the human-avians _before_ you kill your targets. Do you understand? I no longer desire the mutants dead. They are much more valuable to me alive."

_**Yes, Lord Megatron,**_ Soundwave answered, his toneless voice menacing.

Megatron reclined in his makeshift throne and imagined the sheer horrors that were about to befall the infamous bird kids. It would be glorious. It would be _justice_.

No one, not even the pompous Autobots, would be prepared for this next daring move.

* * *

_A/N: This chappie is the prelude to a rather messy misadventure that will hopefully culminate in an epic Decepticreep beatdown. Stay tuned! :D Special thanks to all you faithful readers, you have helped keep this story alive! And remember, every time you review, Max gets a cookie. Though I've had to start giving them to Megatron lately, because all these cookies are gonna make Max fat. Megs needs love too y'know._


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